Pale Echo
by Littlepurplestars
Summary: My heart shouldn't pound like this. It shouldn't chime like the grinding gears of a mechanical instrument, not because of this. Not because he has said something so small. The memory of our distant fights and rivalry are only a pale echo now in the afterglow of his smile.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun creeps through the curtains of the window. It shines across the room, making a hot warpath where it lands and scorches the wooden floor while the rest of the space remains dark and hidden away from the world.

I sit on the edge of the bed, contemplating whether or not it is worth it to rise and face the day as I do any other here lately.

I take a deep breath. I am already awake. There is no point in trying to fall back into some sort of dream world now.

My feet touch the wood, a soft layer of sweat sticks to the floor momentarily as I take each step on my way to the bathroom.

When I'm dressed, I sit at the large wooden table in our kitchen. The other chairs are empty. The room is empty. The house is empty.

I hear the walls creak in the silence as if they are calling out for the life that should be teeming throughout the halls. It is a mournful aching sound that echoes the most in the darkness.

This house is completely empty now, I am the last one left, but it wasn't always so.

I had a family once. A real one with a mother, a father, and an older brother. I loved them. It's not an easy thing to admit because emotions are what can break you down the best, but I loved them.

I loved the way that my mother sang to me in the mornings when she and I were the only ones in the kitchen, with my father and brother gone for the day. Her high toned feminine voice rang throughout the room as her hands were wet with the dishwater in the sink. Old folk songs. Old nursery rhymes. Old memories.

She loved me best, I think. She loved my brother as well of course, but I think that she loved me best because I was her youngest. Her little one. Her baby. I could tell in the way that she spoke to me. The way that she played with me around the house like she was a child herself when no one was looking.

It was different with my father. My brother was always his favorite son. I tried so hard to make him proud, but in the end, I never had a chance. I never had the opportunity to prove myself to him. The last of what he knew of me was a child that was nothing like his elder brother in talent and skill. A weak child. A soft child. A child that hadn't yet shown any potential.

He was strict with all of us, but I believe that was just his way. Just his way of being a shinobi and just his way of being a man that is expected to look brave, calculated, and cold at all times in order to maintain respect in his household and community.

My father preferred my brother and there is no reason that he shouldn't have. The man that was my only sibling was strong and so intelligent that he was deemed a genius at an early age. He knew exactly what was to come in the future and could predict the outcome of every battle. He saw endless possibilities of what could happen next and he planned for each one of them that he saw in his head. He was glorious. He was what I wanted to be.

I loved him most of all. I looked up to him and thought that we'd be together forever. I thought that we'd have a life time to grow and become stronger together. I thought that he would protect me as an older brother should. I see now that in the end he did, although I hadn't thought of it that way until he was no more.

I loved him then, but I love him even more now after all of this. After all of this work and loss and pain. After all of this training and compromising and forced away hatred. After all of this absurdity, I see that I love him more now than I did when I was just a child chasing after him for attention.

He's gone now. They're all gone and I am alone in this big house.

I was so young when most of them disappeared that I can't remember their faces well without looking at the photographs that still adorn the tables in their shiny glass frames.

They were hell to clean up when I returned. Dust covered every inch of the building. Rubble had fallen through and created holes in the walls from when most of the other buildings had been demolished and then later rebuilt. This one hadn't been bothered with, and so I had had to clean it myself.

I shake my head in the silence. It was kind of them to even allow this house to stand after all this time. After all that I've done. After all that I've caused them to lose.

I sigh again and eat my un-sugared cereal. I refuse to cook for myself. Prepackaged food will have to do.

I close my eyes and concentrate on the small noises outside. There are six of them. Six Anbu guards that I could easily take down all at one time. Six men that I could destroy with just the thought to do so. But that's not something that I care to think about trying anymore.

In ways their presence makes me a prisoner, but overall I am a refugee in this place. In this village. In this house. I am free from being forced to desecrate anything that gets in my way. I am free from seeking revenge and justice for anything. I am free to just be.

The guards are always perched outside these walls now. They follow me after me when I walk on the streets. They watch me when I visit the market. They keep their respectful distance when I visit the graves of my family.

There is a fairly recent plot next to my father's. My brother finally rests within the village that he fought too hard to protect, while I am still alive although I had fought just as hard to destroy it. I will lie beside my mother when my time comes to join them.

I am pulled away from my thoughts as a hollow sound beats against the front door. I stand. I suppose that I should answer it because I know that the sound will not stop until I do.

I do not need to open it to know who has come to me this early in the morning. I do not need to bother telling him to go away. It would be futile. It would be pointless. It would be cruel of me.

He visits me every day that he's in the village, at least once. He smiles at me with his wide familiar grin and those bright blue endless eyes. That yellow hair is always catching the sun and blinding me when I focus too much. Those lined scars on his cheeks are more captivating than I will ever tell him.

He reassures me of the friendship that he thinks that we have by placing a hand on my shoulder every now and then. He laughs at his own jokes in order to make me feel comfortable, although I remain silent in my defective sense of humor.

He brings me food and reminds me to eat. He checks me over. Checks my body and my eyes. He checks my temperature with the back of his hand, even though he knows that I know he has no medical training.

He touches me when he gets the chance and pretends that he doesn't notice, but I know that he does it all on purpose. I like to pretend that he just wants to feel my body somehow beneath his hands.

He tells me about his days and his missions. About his thoughts and about the nightmares that he might have had the night before. He tells me about everything in between that he can think of just to keep the conversation going.

And I allow it. I allow it all because in more ways than I can count, I owe it to him. I am in debt to him and so I tolerate all of his behavior because I know that it makes him happy. It makes him feel fulfilled and it makes him feel like all that he has done for me hasn't been a waste.

Even I know that he's wasted more time on me than he should have even thought about before. He's given up so much just to make sure that I didn't end up dead or locked away in some concrete cell. He's allowed so much to slip away from him just to have me stand beside him.

I owe him and so I allow him anything that he asks of me.

But even so, I don't mind. I don't mind at all. I enjoy it. His company allows me to forget about how lonely I am in this life and tricks me into thinking that there is more to all of this than just feeling empty and unaccomplished.

I like it when he moves close enough to me so that I can smell the salty tang of sweat over his tanned skin. So that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. So that I can judge the solidity of his muscles of his frame.

I like it when he looks at me as if he still can't believe that I'm here. That I'm in this village and in his presence. I like how that look is just for me.

I like when he commands me to try a bite of his food and when he holds it out to me on his chopsticks, attempting to feed me. I like the way he smiles when I open my mouth to accept it.

I like how he comes to me to bandage his wounds after training or a difficult mission. I like the way he trusts me enough to be the one to fix him.

I like it all because it helps me not feel so alone. It helps me pretend that he forgives me for everything that I've done to him.

He says that he forgives me, although I've never verbally apologized. I've never been sorry with my words, but I try to let him know that I am in other ways.

I am sorry in the way that I make him tea, ever so carefully. Wanting it to taste perfect. I am sorry in the way that I voluntarily sit next to him at the table. Something that I would never have done before. I am sorry in the way that I give him a small smile when he least expects it. Meaning to light up his eyes. I am sorry in the way that I tell him to come back the next day. To let him know that I don't mind if he comes around.

I never say it, but I know that he understands. The two of us were always like that, always knowing what the other wanted or felt without verbal communication. It's what made us able to work so well together on a team, but made me close myself up to him as I did.

I didn't want him to see what was underneath the mask that I showed the world. I didn't want him to know how vulnerable I was. I didn't want him to suspect that he was the only person I really considered my friend.

I open the door with my pale hands and stand back to allow him to enter. There he is, just as I expect him to be. He is dressed in his gear. He must have a mission today.

The sun passes over his face and he holds a hand up to his forehead to shade his line of vision. When he catches sight of me he smiles just as I knew he would. I am feeling generous today. I smile back at him.

He walks through the door way and takes off his shoes before entering the house. He is always respectful like that, although strangers wouldn't expect him to be.

He walks with me to the kitchen where he sees my empty bowl on the table.

"Oh you already ate, Teme? I thought we could go out to get something together since I'm going to be gone for a few days," he says as he lightly frowns.

I hate it when he frowns. It's not a look that suits him. I walk a few inches closer to him.

"It's fine, I can eat more," I tell him in the hushed tone I've taken to using since my return.

His lips lift and the frown is forgotten.

"You will be gone for a few days?" I ask.

I hate it when he goes away, although I pretend that I don't care. He doesn't know that I do, but he pretends that I do. It's a strange sort of thing for the two of us to pretend. He thinks that I don't care but he wants me to, and so he tries to convince himself that I sit here waiting for him to return, hopelessly devoted and lonely without him. he over exaggerates it, but he doesn't understand that it's real. And I, and I pretend that it is completely untrue, just to save myself some dignity.

I have a feeling that he will one day be able to see through it all and realize that I really do wait around for him, counting the days and giving into the anticipation. But for now, I have decided that I will keep him thinking that I don't even notice his absence.

"Yeah, I'll be gone for a few days. Ten at max. It's supposed to be a hard one. The target, I mean. He's got this scroll that we have to retrieve, but he keeps himself constantly surrounded by body guards. The trick is getting it without killing anyone," he tells me as he pulls the wooden chair away from the table to sit down.

I follow his lead and sit in my own chair next to him. As I am getting situated, I accidentally bump my shoulder and arm into his. He doesn't seem to mind, although he watches me until I am settled.

"Who will be on your team this time?" I ask.

What team he is placed on is essential. I need to know that his teammates are going to make sure that he gets back to the village safely.

"Sai and this new recruit," he says.

"The imposter will be a good asset, but will the other one know what he's doing?" I want to know.

It has been such a long time since I first learned that Sai had taken my place with my old team, but still I haven't been able to let it go, even after the four of them were no longer a team.

"Oh come on Sas', you can't keep calling him that!" he says with a laugh.

"As far as I can see, he is an imposter. He looks like me and you replaced me with him. He is nothing more than a doppelganger," I say, trying to sound cold and as if it only bothers me because I was replaced in general, not because I've been jealous all this time.

"Ok, first off, we didn't replace you. At least I didn't. I made it very clear to him when we first met that it was your spot on the team and he was only temporary until you got back. We wouldn't have had to find another member for our team if you had stayed with us to begin with. Second, he doesn't look like you, not really. I mean, he's got the dark hair and pale skin thing going on, but other than that he doesn't. And even then, his hair's not as shiny and doesn't have the blue tint to it that yours does and his face isn't as-," he tells me, cutting himself off at the end.

For some reason the possibilities of what he might say have my heart pounding in my ears. I don't understand why.

"His face isn't as, what?" I ask him with my usual smirk in place.

His own face has turned pink and I know that I have embarrassed him in some way. My heart beats louder at the knowledge.

"Uh, I was just gonna say that his face isn't as ugly as yours," he says quickly and i can tell by the way he looks away from me, that it was not what he was going to say originally.

"Oh really? If you hadn't noticed Dobe, just about every girl in this place disagrees with you, so either you have really bad eye sight or you're lying," I tell him.

He looks back at me with an almost blank stare. It holds just a hint of wonder and I start to feel uncomfortable. I let my smirk vanish and watch him.

He remains silent. He is usually overwhelmingly loud and so I become uncomfortable.

"What?" I say to slice into the quiet.

"You're right, I don't think you're ugly, Sasuke," he says in a somber sort of tone as he looks away from me.

My heart shouldn't pound like this. It shouldn't chime like the grinding gears of a mechanical instrument, not because of this. Not because he has said something in a manner so unlike his natural one. Not because he has admitted defeat on something that the both of us could have just as easily let go to fall away from the light and land in the darkness of all of the forgotten things we've said to one when we were young. Not because he isn't taunting me or looking for a small teasing fight like I had expected.

It shouldn't beat like this. It's not like he called me something as bold as beautiful or anything close to the word. He just simply stated that he doesn't think that I'm unattractive. It shouldn't effect me like this. I can not stop the confusion from taking me over momentarily.

I am confused as to why I am having this sort of reaction. It was a comment so small, it shouldn't have echoed throughout me this way. He is my childhood friend. My left behind teammate. my once closest ally. And he still remains my greatest rival. We are nothing like the sounding of my heart makes it feel like we are.

Its erratic rhythm makes it seem as if he has shown me some small bit of affection. Makes me feel like there's a deeper reason that he touches me so often. Why he smiles at me in that big grinning way. Why he looks at me with something akin to longing every so often.

I take a deep breath and force myself to cut all those threaded connections that I have imagined in half. I have severed them. I will move on.

"What, are you jealous of me, Dobe?" I ask him to tease.

It has never been a secret that as a child, he was always jealous of me. jealous of my skills. of my looks. Of my ability to gain positive attention from all of our peers and most of the adults. Of my involuntary heart capture of the girl that he was in love with.

I scoff at myself internally. I don't want to think of her right now, it aches too much, but I cannot help myself. she has already invaded my conscious thoughts.

She used to follow me home in the afternoons after our classes at the academy. She was always in my line of vision, watching me, her green eyes never allowing me out of her sight. She'd smile brightly and do the tricks that she thought would catch my attention. Her silky pink hair would fall over her shoulders before she'd decide to curl a shiny lock around her index finger as she looked over at me with a pout.

She was utterly infatuated with me and I wanted nothing to do with her, or anyone. she thought that she had to have me and for years she surrounded herself in a delusion that I would one day realize that I loved her and would marry her to continue on clan. She was wrong, but it didn't stop her. she needed me back in this place so that she could be one step closer to making it all a reality.

I don't blame her now, not really. I've come to learn that when you want something so bad but you understand that it's most like unobtainable, you try as hard as possible to convince yourself that it is, just to keep you going. Just to keep on having a goal. just to keep yourself from realizing that your dreams will never come true. I understand why she believed it all, I have been there before.

I understand her now, but I didn't before. not when we were kids, not when they were chasing after me, and not the last time that she declared her undying love for me. I didn't know why she lived in a fantasy world or why she didn't understand that I didn't love her, so I was cruel to her. I was completely horrendous to her and I am ashamed at the way I treated her.

When it was all over and the decision about my fate was made, she had come to me. told me that she still loved me. that she still needed me. that she still wanted me to make me her bride, even after all of my harshness towards her, and I publically rejected her.

I had told her callously that I didn't want her and that she wasn't good enough for me. that she could never be enough for me, no matter how many things she changed about herself. I had told her that she was only good for bed things, if even that.

I'm not attracted to her, not like that. she's beautiful, one of the most beautiful girls that I've met in my lifetime, but I don't want her in that way. I never did. I never wanted any woman that I've known. But it didn't stop me from saying something so cruel, to imply that she would be good enough to go to bed with but not to marry.

My mouth was malicious and it reduced her to tears. I could almost see her coming apart at the seams as her pretty eyes filled up with water and she started to smell like salt and sweat. I broke her, and not only did I shatter her inflated ego, I had done so infront of all of the people that had gathered around to watch us.

We stood in the center of a makeshift circle, all eyes on the pair of us. All the girls of the village that wanted to be my potential suitors watched our drama play out. My chakra resistant shackles clanged together softly as I moved my wrists. My hair had been matted in the back and fell long over one side of my face, shielding my right eye. My clothes had been dirty and soiled from battle, blood, and captivity within concrete walls.

I had been a disgusting figure beside her petite girlish figure. Beside her neatly combed candy hair. her clean shiny nails. Her small soft mouth. Her smooth ironed dress. I was a battered beast beside her, and still I had the nerve to ridicule her affections. And I acted the part of a beast perfectly.

She hadn't come around for months afterward. After I had embarrassed her like that. after I had taken away her popularity in front of the women of the village that had surrounded us in that circle.

She had refused to speak to me for a long time, and I couldn't hold it against her. I had known all along that what I had done was wrong, I just couldn't help myself. I was too angry. I was too mad that she hadn't been listening to me all of those years. she had ignored my straight forward dislike of her so many times that I couldn't keep from insulting her the way that I had.

Her not talking to me didn't bother me, to be honest. When we were children, she was a good teammate because she was smart and she knew how to follow directions. But even so, when she spoke, it felt like she didn't really have anything useful to say. To complete missions and be able to injure your enemies you need to grow up at least a little, and she managed to remain a child through it all when the rest of us, even him, had become mature. She still lived within her small perfect world of girly sweet things, while we were fighting the darkness around us to get our job done.

It didn't bother me that she remained silent with me, but it did increase the guilt that I felt. In the past, I rarely felt guilt over the things that I did because I always felt that I had a valid reason for doing them, even if they left people broken like the sea shells you find where the ocean meets the sand. I never went back on any of the decisions that I made, besides the ones I had made about the things that I did to my rival, but I wanted to take the pain that I caused her back. I wanted to erase it from her memory and keep on going like it never occurred. And the more she stayed away, the more I let it hurt me.

She hasn't forgiven me yet and I doubt that she ever will. Like with him, I have never told her that I'm sorry. But I have never shown her either. I am sorry, but not for what I know that she wants me to be for. I am sorry that I embarrassed her and I am sorry that I insulted her with the topic of sex. I am sorry about the particular ragged words that I had used and I am sorry that I didn't wait to reject her in private. But I will never feel remorse for not loving her, and that is her problem, I think.

She wants me to tell her that I regret rejecting her all together. I know that she wants me to someday give her a wholehearted apology stating that she was the one love that I let get away from me and that I can not live another second without her by my side. It's an egotistical assumption, I know, but I also know that it's true. I know her enough to know that that's what she wants. She will not get it.

She comes around every now and again, never alone though. she comes along with him, or with our sensei. I think she's afraid of me now. Afraid of what I can do to her to break her down even further. I don't plan on ever doing such a thing again unless it's necessary. Unless she gets in the way of something that may make me happy. If I ever finally fall in love with someone and she tries to damage any piece of it. I have thought this through. I am prepared for such an occurrence.

When she comes, she stays at least four feet away from me, but she still scans my body as she did when we were younger. She's still attracted to me, she is not afraid of it being obvious. Perhaps she still clings to that sliver of hope that she must have in her somewhere. She stares at my face and at my bare chest when it's unclothed. She blinks rapidly in attempt to flutter her eyelashes as girls do when trying to attract a mate. She brings me food that she's prepared and tells me that she's an excellent cook each time.

Sensei tells me that she would be a good wife. She is beautiful and strong. prestigious in her work. Has excellent medical training. Has a charismatic way about her. is willing to be used for the revival of my clan. is ready to have as many children for me as her small body would allow. Is begging for my attention. Is open to my coldness. I bluntly disagree with him each time and he laughs aloud. he doesn't mean it as an honest suggestion, although what he says are not lies. She will make a lovely wife for someone else eventually.

I push the thought of her away. she's not important right now. I let out another deep breath and wait for his retort, which I know is sure to come.

He looks away from me again and focuses on the floor as he mumbles almost intelligible.

"Not jealous of you, jealous of everyone else," he says and I don't know if I've heard him correctly.

"What do you mean?" I ask and by the way he quickly looks up, I can tell that he hadn't intended for me to hear what he said.

"I don't know what I mean, just forget it. let's go eat something together, cuz' I have to leave soon," he tells me and for a moment I am disappointed that he doesn't answer my question, but I am mostly relieved.

I am relieved that I don't have to deal with what ever he might have said. since my return to this place we haven't exactly spoken about the past and about all of the pain that I've caused him over time, but the knowledge that it all happened before is still there and I'm sure that it would have again become apparent in whatever direction his answer would have gone. I am not ready for such a serious interaction in this moment. I do not want him thinking of anything hurtful before he leaves on this difficult mission.

I feel the overwhelming need for him to return to me. I need him to come back and I need him to be alright. This is not the time to think about the reasons why.

"Alright," I agree with him as I lift myself out of my chair and stand while he does the same. We are in close proximity. He bumps into me as I did when we first sat down. His shoulder collides hard into mine and it moves my body back an inch from my position. I put my hands out in front of me as a reaction.

"Oh, sorry Sas'," he apologizes and I only nod to tell him that I forgive him.

His mood has dampened and I cannot figure out why. It is not something that I want to linger throughout our time together and so I try to make it better, fix it, as we walk to the food stand of his choice. The anbu follow close behind, although they are hidden from the civilians' sight.

"Who is the new recruit that will be on your mission?" I ask him.

"Ah, she's this new girl that just started out a few months ago. She's awfully young for a hard mission like this, but Baa-Chan says that she's right for the job, so we just have to go with it. I've met her a few times before, she's not bad. She's funny and not bad looking. She's got really pretty eyes, bright brown ones," he tells me and I feel a pang of something deep in my stomach.

"So you think she's attractive? Instead of saying anything about her abilities or talents, you comment on her looks? I can tell that you're going to let yourself be distracted, Dobe," I say, trying to sound playful, although meaning it all.

"Hey! I'm not that easily distracted by a pretty face, Sasuke-bastard," he tells me and I can sense that what I've said is most likely true and he knows it.

"Right. So you weren't distracted at all by Sakura during missions when we were younger?" I ask in order to prove my point.

"That was different," he says and I am expecting more, but nothing comes.

"How was that different? You couldn't focus for anything on the mission when she was around half of the time," I say.

"It was different because I thought that I was in love with her, you know that, and plus we were really young. You know, hormones and all that," he says and for some reason his answer hurts a bit. I am unable to tell if it is because the subject of her is brought up again within my head or because he so blatantly admits aloud that he once loved her without any restraint or embarrassment that I would have expected.

And then I look away from him, my attempts to tease him have fallen away to be forgotten. I thought that he still loved her, I wasn't aware that things had changed.

"You thought?" I ask. I feel like I need a valid answer.

"Yeah, I thought that I did, but it was just an infatuation I guess. I figured that you already knew that. at least i always assumed that's why you never took my 'love for her' very seriously," he tells me.

For some reason I am relieved. For some reason the twisting knot in my stomach has lessened.

"No, I never took your 'love for her' seriously because she didn't," I tell him and for a quick second I see his face fall and then pick back up. I feel guilty that I have offended him in some way.

"You're right, she didn't like me back because she was in love with you instead," he said, trying hard to smile.

"Don't be too disappointed, Dobe. She doesn't love me anymore," I say, trying to make him feel better.

"That's only because you were an asshole to her. She told me that she loved me once, you know? I didn't believe her then, but I do now," he told me and then the knot retightened.

"Why don't you marry her then?" I asked, fearing the answer he would give.

He looks away from and down to his hands that I know to be strong and worn before looking back up to me and answering my question.

"I told you, I don't love her anymore and she's not the one for me. All this time I thought that she was, but I was wrong. Besides, I don't want to be with someone that only decided that she liked me after I proved my worth. I want to be with someone that has loved me all along and will love me no matter what happens, whether I'm a dirt poor orphan with a fox in my stomach or a strong shinobi that's saved the village a bunch of times. I've learned over the years that real love has nothing to do with your accomplishments. It should come easy and from the start, and that's not how it is with Sakura-Chan," he tells me.

For some reason I am relieved. I don't understand why, but I can't deny that a heavy feeling washed away from me with his words.

"I'm surprised that you were able to push how you felt about her aside to look at how she really is. it's not like you to think things through like that," I say, but I know that I am wrong.

He has changed so much since we were children fighting over who could run up the tree the highest during training. He is now stronger than me, although I will never tell him that and will continue to claim that I will always be better than him. he is now dependable and intelligent, assessing the situation before taking action. He is still as spontaneous as ever, but only in his personality and not in battle.

I don't know why I've said something like that. I've implied that he is still just as irrational and naïve as he's always been and I know that's not true.

I have hurt him. I can see it in his face and the way that it has fallen. For the second time today, I have dampened his mood.

"Well, it's not like you to be so nice to me either, but youre able to have calm conversations with me now without letting the madness seep through or trying to electrocute me," he says, trying to hurt my feelings and cut me deep with the fact of how unkind I used to treat him. with how I had been briefly overcome with insanity for a period of time. at how I was hell to be around for such a long time.

The words have their effect and I feel damaged, but I still try hard to think of something that can salvage the conversation. Something that will make him less bitter with me.

I internally scold myself, it is always me that tends to ruin things between the two of us no matter how hard I try to be on my best behavior for him.

"It's because I've only just realized that there is actual value to the things that you say. You're far more clever than you look," I say.

"Yeah, well you would have realized that a lot sooner if you'd only have listened to me from the beginning," he says, avoiding my face.

There is nothing I can say but admit defeat. I owe it to him to submit to things like this.

"I know," I tell him truthfully, trying to catch his blue eyes in my own.

He looks up at me and seems to be just as relieved as I was earlier.

"Will you listen to me from now on, Teme?" he asks.

I keep a straight face as I answer him so that maybe he will understand that I am being honest.

"I will, and I already do," I tell him and mean it to be a promise.

He smiles at me then, and I think that perhaps he understood the meaning.

We continue on to his favorite restaurant where the old man and his beautiful daughter greet us. He speaks about his upcoming missions and the days he plans on taking off for vacation upon his return.

I wonder for a few moments if he will spend those days with me or someone else.

We eat our food in silence. This is unusual. Normally he speaks so much his food falls out of the side of his mouth. the quiet is a strange feeling that I decide I do not want to get used to.

I sigh aloud. there was once a time that I valued silence above all else. that all I wanted was to be surrounded by quiet darkness. I decide that it's a funny thing for me to want the opposite, but somehow things are different with him.

Long ago, I thought that I couldn't stand the sound of his voice and his nonsensical ramblings, but these days I long for his nonstop spouting of words. I can't explain it, nor will I ever be able to describe this change in me.

When we finish eating and he pays the bill. He is always paying for me these days. it should make me feel helpless or prideful to have someone spending their money on me, my clan has left me enough of it, but it doesn't. instead it makes me feel as if he's taking care of me and that's a feeling that I've only just gotten used to.

Since I've lost my parents, no one has really taken care of me. my brother tried to without me knowing it, but I didn't understand and I wouldn't allow anything from him. so I spent my days lonely and trying to be strong enough to take care of myself. when he pays for my food or opens the door for me, I feel as if he's making up for all the times I've had to do it myself.

We leave the ramen restaurant and he walks me back to my empty house. he leaves me at the door and steps a few inches away from me.

"I'll see you later, Sas'," he says and smiles at me.

I realize that I am reluctant to let him leave. Suddenly I feel heavy again and like my chest is being squeezed by some invisible force.

As shinobi, it is a subliminal message and common knowledge that our loved ones will someday not return to the village or make it through a mission. It is something that we have to live with as the price for being so skilled and powerful. I myself have almost died countless times on missions with him by my side and tasks all on my own. it is nothing new to fear, but still I can't help myself in this moment.

"Be careful," I tell him and mean it as a command. I feel afraid that he won't return and I will be alone. I don't know why I feel this way.

He is one of the village's strongest shinobi, he will be fine and I shouldn't feel this way, but I do and I don't know how to stop the aching feeling in my chest. I have this irrational fear that he won't come back. that I won't ever see him again. That I won't ever get to see him smile or laugh again in that childish way from my memories.

He looks surprised by my response, perhaps pleased even. I do not usually show affection in my words and I have caught him off guard. He is unused to it and I like the expression that I has come over his face.

"I'll try to be. Don't worry, I'll be back soon," he says as if he can read my mind and I believe him. I believe that he always tries his best.

I don't know what else to say so I only nod once and observe him turn to leave.

I watch as his back fades out of my view in the opposite direction of me and realize for the first time that this must be what he felt when our roles were reversed. I now understand the pain of worry and anxiety that he must have felt knowing htat there was a possiblility that we would never see each other again as I purposefully ran away from him.

I decide that I will tell him that I now understand the way things used to be between us as I ran off to complete my goals without him. it will make me seem weak, but I think that perhaps he will appreciate that I have come to understand how we were.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For the last few days I've been trying to distract myself from sulking over the loneliness of his absence. I used to long for the solitude away from him, thinking that he was too annoying or childish to associate with. now, I loathe the emptiness of my house. of my days. of my life. I am now a lonely creature that wanders about looking for someone else to cling to, with him the target of my captivation.

At the moment I am in the market. Completing normal daily routines like shopping helps me feel like I fit into the bland adult life within the village that is expected of me. It's not all bad, I have to admit, it's only dull when I have to do it alone.

I sigh as I inspect the fruits and vegetables in their crates within the super market. I realize that what I'm missing is a companion. Someone to spend my days with. someone to entertain me and make all these routines worth it. someone to buy these fruit for. Someone to cook with. someone else's clothes for me to was along with my own.

I sigh again. I am lonely and for some reason I only feel fulfilled and as if I have a purpose when he visits me. When he brings me trinkets of our friendship and smiles at me.

I internally scoff. Am I that pathetic and desperate that I've begun to use him to fill this hole inside me that has formed? Am I that disgusting to fixate on him because he is the only one I see almost everyday?

I try to remind myself that I am alone because I choose to be. I could have any of the girls that smile at me and bat their eyelashes as I walk by. I could take one of them to bed with me if I wanted to. I could even have Sakura if I wanted her. she would forgive me and undress herself as soon as I told her so.

I don't want any of them though. I've been with women before, I remind myself, so that's not the issue. I just don't find any of them alluring or interesting. None of them can rile me up the way I need them to.

I can't help but pout as I analyze the tomatoes to see which is the reddest and ripest.

I am interrupted by the feeling of being watched. I feel eyes on me as I look up from the crate of fruit and turn to look behind me.

Kakashi stands a few feet from me and comes closer after he's realized that I've noticed him. he leans into me so that he is close enough to whisper.

"How is my dear student today?" he asks. I can't see his covered mouth, but I know that he is smiling.

I give him a sigh.

"I'm bored," I admit.

"Yes, domestic life must seem so boring compared to killing and destroying things for the sake of vengeance," he says with a small laugh.

"Shut up," I say, not really meaning it.

"I'm surprised Naruto isn't shadowing you like he normally does today," he says, tilting his head slightly in the way he does when he has something that he deems good enough for an interesting reaction.

I make the decision to try to argue with him over the attentiveness of my rival in order to make some sort of fun for myself, although I know that Kakashi is right.

"He doesn't shadow me," I lie.

"So I'm wrong and it isn't him that follows you around the village like an adoring pet or makes excuses every day to visit you just to make sure that you're still alive?" he asks sarcastically.

"He doesn't follow me about like you make it sound. He keeps me company because he pities me," I admit what I know to be truth.

He straightens the position of his head and uses his uncovered eye to convey seriousness.

"He doesn't pity you. He is just about the only one that doesn't. In fact, he's convinced that it's the other way around, that you _allow_ him to spend time with you because it's _you_ that feels pity for _him_ ," my former teacher tells me and I am surprised.

Since my fate was decided within this village, I have felt as if I've owed him all this time for everything that he's done for me and everything that I've taken away from him. For the endless demands that I return home with him to the village that raised me. For the countless miles he's run after me. for the thousands of times that I refused to listen to his advice. For the many times that I failed to give into his loud tear filled pleas. For all the times I've let him down. And for al the years he's wasted training just so that we could stand equal and side by side.

All this time I've felt like I've owed him something. Anything to make the hurt and ache go away between us. But I never once took pity on him. I honestly believed that it was the other way around. I had thought that that was the reason he came to see me each day and spoke with me as if I'd never left this place in the beginning. I never thought that it was possible that he could ever think it was the other way around.

Kakashi is a trained liar, his skillful ability to twist words is how missions are successful. How he can slip by undetected, unnoticed, unsuspicious. It's how he gets what he wants. But I see no reason for him to lie to me about my rival. there would be nothing for him to gain from it in making his former student seem weak and pathetic in the way that he has so I believe him.

I make the decision to come out and tell him plainly how much I appreciate his visits to disprove his beliefs when he returns.

We don't talk about the past when he comes around. we avoid it as if it never happened. We only speak about the missions we've gone on together when we were on the same team and of the present. There is not talk about what happened in between the last time that I lived in this village, about my brother, or about the future. It all goes untouched and unbothered as if both of us believe what friendship we have right now will shatter and we will lose one another if we talk about it.

That is why after the day I was released from that small dirt floored cell they kept me in underground, we've spoken of none of that. None of the things that I've done. None of the crimes I've committed in some way to him or to this village. None of the things that I've missed in my absence. None of the emotions either of us felt in our time apart. None of it was mentioned, in fear that this new thing we've created would crumble before us, too fractured and unrepairable.

Yes, I can admit that I am aware that it is not just me that fears not being able to face the other. But I can also admit that someday we will need to address the things we've been ignoring. Otherwise, that wall I can feel between us will not ever dissolve or move and we will always be prevented from becoming closer.

That is something else I've come to realize over time. I wish to be closer to him. closer than we were before any of this started and closer than what we are now. Closeness could mean many things and I'm not sure which way I mean, but I want it all the more.

I can't deny that after all this time he is my best friend, but we don't have that same kind of friendship two normal people have when they label each other as such. We have an unbreakable bond that no matter how hard I tried to sever it, bend it, splinter it, or throw it away, could I truly destroy it. But it is still not what it should be. What it could be, whatever that may be. It's strange how we can have a bond like the one that we have and yet be so far apart.

I don't want that sort of distance anymore. Only in this moment can I come to terms with this. only right now can I admit to myself that I want more than what we have and that's why I feel the way I do when we are together and when I'm waiting patiently and full of boredom for him to return.

Although I believe Kakashi, I feel the need for confirmation.

"I don't believe you," I tell him, challenging the truth that he's given me.

"Then you are either blind to it or purposely ignoring it," he tells me and reaches a gloved hand out in front of me to pick up a ripe tomato before placing it in the shopping basket I hold in my hand by the handles.

"I believe that I once taught you to be observant at all times, I expect you to use those skills. you were my best student in the beginning, will you allow Naruto to outshine you these days just because you think you don't need to be aware of anything going on closest to you in your domestic life?" he says as he leaves me and walks off to cash register to buy the product he's been holding in one of his hands.

I sigh aloud again. I haven't lost my skills. I still train every day. It bothers me that he thinks I am not as perceptive as I once was or as I need to be, but it's possible that he's right. Perhaps I am not seeing things in the same way as others might.

I pay for the fruits and vegetables that I've picked up on my way to the front of the store and head back to my lonely empty house with the Anbu that watch me from the rooftops.

After I am alone again, I think about what it would be like between the two of us if we were able to be as close with one another as other friends are, as others are with the people they label their best friends.

I think about what it would be like to have him share himself completely with me. he tells me about his entire day when he visits and he trusts me enough to mend his physical wounds, but it is still obvious that he doesn't trust me enough to mend the ones that have scarred his soul. He doesn't tell me about his emotions and he doesn't mention how things are within his head.

I can tell that he is still afraid that I will mock him as I would have when we were younger, and it hurts me deeper than I thought it ever could. I want him to be open with me because I want to be what a true best friend should be for him and I also want to be just as open with him in return.

This desire to share myself scares me. It frightens me enough to increase my respiration pattern as I sit on my couch in my empty living room. I have never opened myself up to anyone, not enough. Not enough to imply that someone else truly knows me. Even he doesn't know me as much as I want him to. As much as he should.

When we were on the same team, I refused to allow him to become close to me. I built a wall between us that he kept trying to chip away at with his personal questions and the talk of our bond, but still I was determined to keep him out and away.

I don't want that distance anymore. I remind myself of my resolve to decimate the space between us and smile to myself at what that could be like.

He also never mentions needing anything from me. He visits me every chance that he gets. Buys me food. Takes me out of this house on small field trips. Tells me that he forgives me for everything that I've done. Has given me the atonement that I crave. But he never asks me for anything in return.

Even as antisocial as I once was and as uncaring for others as I seem, I know that it is not possible for relationships of any kind to work out well without both giving and receiving. He has given me everything and has received nothing from me except my company.

I know that there are things that he needs from me and I also know that I'm not the most inviting person. I am not warm enough and he doesn't trust me enough to ask for what he needs.

I decide that that's a problem. I want to give him just as much in return as he gives to me. I don't understand why, but I have this insatiable desire to make him feel fulfilled from our friendship. I want him to feel like he can come to me for anything and expect me not to laugh at him. expect me not to turn him away. Expect me to try my best to understand what he wants and needs from me.

I take a deep breath and release it into the silence around me. It's all starting to sound more like romantic relationship than a friendship that I've been thinking over in my head. I dismiss the thought. That's not what I want.

He is my best friend and my rival. The man that was once an annoying and obnoxious child that couldn't even create an adequate shadow clone or climb a tree. The man that always tried to be better than me.

I look to the floor at my bare feet and remind myself that he is also the man that spent the majority of his life so far training just to bring me back to this place. Just to save me from a power crazy snake that wanted my body. That chased after me just to catch a glimpse of me. That he is the man I fought and lost to. That cared about me even when the madness took me over and I had total disregard for anything and everything else. That he is the one person that had no doubts about allowing me to be reintegrated into the village. That he is the only one that comes around just to talk for a while.

That besides the brother that I love so much, he is the only person that I can completely memorize his face within my head. I close my eyes. I can see every scar and every line. Every smooth curve and every protruding bone structure in his face. I can remember the exact color of his blue eyes and the shade of his yellow hair. I can imagine the expressions that he makes for each emotion and read the thoughts that he must be thinking with each. I can remember the laugh lines that arch and curve around his mouth as he smiles at me.

The human mind recognizes and memorizes everything that a person sees every day, but it has problems recalling the details from the surface layer. I know Kakashi's face just as I know the Hokage's. I can see Sakura's face when I close my eyes and I can even see that imposter's when I try, but I see none of them like I can see his.

His face is all I see sometimes when I close my eyes or when I dream. I dream memories of our past and in them I am able to see the things that I did wrong or missed.

I bend my neck and hold my head in my pale hands, tangling my long fingers in my dark hair and twisting it to cut of circulation in the appendages.

It isn't normal. It's not right for me to be able to admit to myself that he is all that see sometimes. It's not ok and I don't know what to do with myself. I feel disgusting. No matter what he's done for me or how he treats me, it is wrong of me to think of him in that way.

In that way. I don't understand what I mean by that, but I know that it's not a good thing.

I try to push all the thoughts away from my conscious and take a nap to avoid trying to understand what's going on in my mind.

It is the tenth day that he's been gone from the village. he is supposed to return this afternoon if the mission was successful.

I am anxious for some reason and remain laying on my back in bed. The sheets cover me haphazardly and I hold my hands over my stomach. I can feel myself breathing. Inflating and deflating the muscles with every breath. I try to meditate in this state. I am unsuccessful as I remember that decided to tell him that I appreciate everything that he does for me.

I am nervous that he will be the one laughing at me instead of the other way around like when we were children. I am afraid that he will reject me or simply say nothing and decide to never return to visit me ever again.

I close my eyes. I am most afraid of losing him. of losing his friendship and the relationship that we have now. Of losing the opportunity to correct all the wrongs I've committed and work on fixing the lingering pain that I know is present in both of us.

I decide not to get out of bed and pretend that I am not waiting on his return.

My imagination is interrupted by that familiar sound against the wooden door. he has come to me already. I try to slow down my heart rate as I get up and make my way to answer it.

I smile at him first as I open the door and he returns it. I can tell that he is surprised that he did not have to coax it out of me.

"You're in a good mood, huh?" he asks me and I only nod and gesture for him to enter the house.

I lead him to the living room where we sit side by side on the couch. Our shoulders touch briefly as they often do when we sit in this way.

"How was your mission?" I ask him.

"Uh, it went well, but a few minutes before we got back into leaf territory we met some rouge bandits. I'm actually gonna need you to patch my chest up. I put gauze and stuff on it to stop the bleeding, but I need you to sew it for me. I'm no good with a needle," he tells me and a strange feeling comes over my stomach.

I am worried about him again. Without even seeing and assessing the wound, I am already worried that it will be unfixable.

I try to calm myself down and remind myself that I've sewn him up before, this time is no different.

I look at his chest area from where I am sitting. No blood has soaked through his jacket yet, meaning that he most likely will not bleed out.

Without thinking about it, I reach for the zipper to his jacket and pull it down, exposing his fish net covered chest and the bandaged wound.

My eyes scan over the rest of his almost bare chest without me wanting them too and I can feel my body heat rising.

I try to focus on my task and tell him to take all of his tops off.

He obeys me and moves slightly away from me so that he can use his arms better. he takes his jacket of and I watch it slide off of his broad shoulders and onto the couch behind him. his fish net shirt clings sweaty and wet to his torso. It has been torn in the place of the wound and think that he must have been wearing only the shirt when he was attacked.

It makes me wonder why. During missions together, I've never seen him take his jacket off, even in warm conditions, and it is strange to know that he wasn't wearing it when he was injured.

I try to calm myself. there are many reasons that he could have taken it off and it shouldn't worry me. it is just an outwear clothing item, it is not as significant as if it were his pants that had been removed during the attack.

I watch him pull the fish nets over his head and throw it to the floor in a crumbled ball. I know that he has done this out of respect for my furniture, so that the dampness does not soak into the fabric of the couch.

A few strands of his hair have moved and bent with the action of pulling the garment over his head and I fight the urge to fix them back into place where I know them normally to be.

I can smell the tang of his sweat. I involuntarily lick my lips as if I can taste the salinity. His blue eyes watch the path that my tongue makes and I am suddenly horrified and embarrassed that he has noticed me.

But his face doesn't change and it remains the way that it was, as if he hasn't noticed what I've just done. I feel relieved that he hasn't made a big deal out of it. I am grateful for his unresponsiveness and remind myself that it's just another thing that he's done for me.

I give his wound my full attention and try to be as gentle as I can as I untape the cotton bandage that he has put over it in attempt to stop the bleeding. He winces in pain as the oxygen of the air touches the cut.

It is deep and still bleeding slowly. Blood has soaked into the cotton and stained it a dark red where it has dried around the edges but remained wet in the center. I assess the damage and determine that it was made with a kunai.

"Stay still," I command him almost in a whisper as I rise and go in search for my first aid supplies that I keep in the kitchen.

After I have found them, I reenter the room and rejoin his side as I set to work on cleaning the area with alcohol and disinfectant.

I use a soft cloth so that I don't cause him irritation and gently press my fingertips around the area to determine if the wound is deeper than it seems.

The blood seems to have calmed it's flow. I open the container of the healing balm and dip my finger into the cold gel like solution. Carefully, I spread the substance over the red clice with my finger. His breathing has quickened and I tell myself that it must be from the pain.

I cover the wound with a fresh cotton gauze and then a nud color bandage to hold it into place. the color of the material is lighter than his tan skin and creats a contrast.

"Thank you. I thought for sure it would need sewn," he says with a slightly crackled voice as I rise again to dispose of the soiled cotton and wash my hands.

I step into the room to see that his chest remains bare and exposed. I decide to ask him how the mission went again.

"It went better than what I thought it would. I thought that it would be hard to separate the target from his body gaurds, but Anya did a good job of drawing him out and leading him into the area that we were waiting for him. I knocked the guy out and Sai held onto the scroll until we made it back here," he tells me.

"Anya is the new girl that you were talking about?" I ask.;

I don't really want to know about her, I don't care. I don't want to hear about anyone but him, to be honest, but I still ask to have something for us to talk about.

"Yeah, she's pretty great. Better than what we thought she was gonna be. we get along really well," he says a bit proud of himself.

I have an unusual heavy feeling in the bottom of my stomach similar to what it feels like to be jealous.

"Is that so?" I ask him as if I am disinterested in anything that he has to say.

"Yeah, I think she's really cool. She was good at the mission and she doesn't treat me like I'm a bother or an annoyance like all the girls I've worked on teams with in the past do. She was even flirting with me the whole time, so I figured that she likes me. I asked her out. We're supposed to go out for ramen tonight," he says and I feel my heart sink deeper into my chest.

It's an indescribable feeling that I'm experiencing of sadness and a sense of impending doom. Although I don't understand why, I know now that it is undesputibly jealousy that I feel.

I take a breath and realize that I also feel fear and loss. I fear that if she becomes his girlfriend, he will spend all of his time with her and rarely see me anymore. I am afraid that I will be alone again, forgotten and unuseful to him.

My mouth moves before I can stop it.

"So you won't be staying here longe today and we won't be going out like we usually do when you come back from all of your missions?" I ask.

I know that I sound childish, but I can not help it, although I want to to avoid seeming weak.

He looks as if I've struck him hard and unexpectedly. As if I've hurt him deeply. He looks down at the floor before back up at me.

"Yeah, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it. I'm sorry," he says and I feel like he thinks of me as a burden, keeping him away from the fun things he wants to do.

"It's fine," I tell him, but I know that he can tell that it's not.

I can't prevent my face from revealing that it's a lie with its expression of disappointment.

"I'm really sorry, Sas'. I'll make it up to you," he promises, but I can't make my chest stop hurting.

"You don't have to," I say an look away from him, too pained to look at him. to disappointed that I am just a chore to him.

He reaches a hand out and places it on my upper arm. It is warm and heavy. I look up to his eyes.

"Yes, I do, because it's our thing. It's what we do, it's tradition. You're my best friend, I'm not gonna break that," he says and it makes me feel a little better at his reguard of our routine.

I decide now would be a good time to follow through with telling him my appreciation for his time.

"Hey. So I wanted to talk to you about something," I say and feel myself beginning to sweat from my nervousness.

"Uh, sure. What's up?" he replys, giving me his full attention.

It is not often that I start out our conversations and I can tell that he is afraid of what I will say.

"You spend a lot of time with me, I know that it isn't easy. I'm not easy to get along with. I like it. I appreciate it," I admit in choppy bits, and know that he will understand what I'm trying to say without more elaboration. He is well aware that I do not express myself well with words.

He looks pleased with me and just as nervous.

"Do you really mean that, or are you being sarcastic?" he says and I can tell that he is afraid of me mocking him again.

That isn't my intention and I don't want him to misunderstand.

"I'm serious. Thank you for being so nice to me and for visiting me," I say and bow my head, trying to show him some sort of respect.

He seems startled and even more nervous than before. he avoids my eyes.

"You don't have to thank me for stuff like that. You're my best friend, I want to hang out with you. It's really all I've ever wanted anyway," he tells me.

It feels good to hear him say it. it makes me feel important to him and as if I'm not as much of a burden as I thought before. the heavy feeling lifts slightly by a fraction so that I can breathe a little better.

I decide to move away from the subject to change the topic.

"You're going on a date?" I ask.

I have never kown him to date anyone before and I briefly wonder if he's ever done anything like that. The thought leads to wondering if he's ever slept with anyone either. I don't want to think about it, so I try to dismiss the thoughts from my mind.

"Yeah, she seems really excited about it," he says and smiles.

I decide to tease him like I would if we were still children.

"She must not really know what she's getting herself into with a dobe like you," I say and try to smirk.

"Hey! I treat all my girlfriends great, so she's actually pretty lucky," he tells me.

I feel discouraged that he has had experience with other women. So do I, but it's different because I've never had an official lover before. I have never made anyone my girlfriend before.

"As if you could have gotten a girlfriend before," I say, trying to sound mean.

The comment doesn't have it's desired affect and he acts as if I wasn't trying to insult him.

"I've had a lot of girlfriends. I was seeing Hinata for a while, but it didn't last long. it didn't really work out because neji was too involved. He was too over protective and it interfered with our relationship. There's been others before her, but she's the last one I dated. Have you ever been with anyone, Teme?" he asks me as if it's nothing to ask.

Instead, it is significant. I normally don't talk about aspects of my personal life like that, and it is unusual for me to provide a response to such a question. I remind myself that I want to stop that way of thinking and become closer to him. I decide to answer him truthfully.

"I have never had an official lover, only several random choices that I've taken to bed with me," I say, knowing that he will not like my answer because it is not the righteous thing expected of me.

"So you just fuck them, and that's it?" he asks me.

I nod in response.

"Why?" he asks me as if there is a clear cut answer for something like my behavior.

I think my answer through before responding.

"Relationships require time and attention while creating vulnerabilities. I couldn't have any of that, if I wanted to achieve my goals successfully. Also, I've never met anyone that I really liked. No one has interested me," I tell him.

He looks away from me and I can tell that he's processing the information that I've just given him.

"And now? Would you actually date someone?" he asks me.

I am surprised by his question and try to answer as best as I can.

"I might, if I were to find someone that was compatible with me and could captivate me," I admit.

Then he smiles, seemingly content with my answer.

"You'll find someone perfect for you, Sasuke," he tells me and for a moment, I hope that he's right.

I don't want to be alone anymore, whether it's romantically or socially. I don't want to do any of this all on my own any longer.

"Thanks for patching me up. I'd better go clean up before I have to go get her," he says then and stands to leave.

"Alright. Have fun," I say, not really meaning it.

For some reason I want him to have a misreble time. I want him to decide that he doesn't like her and that they don't get along as well as he thinks right now. I want him to remain single so that he continues to visit me.

I feel the loneliness settle in again after he's left. I sulk around the house and try to not think about him.

For three days, I wait to hear his knock on my wooden door. I wait at the kitchen table and stare off into the room containing the entrance way. I eat my cereal and pace around the house, going from room to room and remembering what they were like when they contained my family memebers.

I am lonely and bored without him, wondering what's kept him away all this time. I can't help myself, I feel angry. I feel mad that he hasn't returned, although he's promised to make it all up to me. I feel upset that he has broken the routine of seeing me everyday. I feel disappointed that he has left me here on my own.

It is evening as I open my front door to see him standing on the porch, rubbing the back of his head and mussing his yellow hair in his nervous habit. He nervously smiles at me, but I decide not to return the gesture. I want him to understand that I am angry with him. he holds a bag of takeout food in his other hand, the plastic rustles in the night breeze.

"Hey, Teme. I'm sorry that I haven't come by in a while. Anya's been spending the nights with me and she complains everytime I try to leave the apartment," he says and my chest clenches.

What I feared seems to have come true. He has made her his girlfriend and she's been sleeping in his bed, meaning that he's most likely sleeping with her. he has stayed away from me because she has occupied all his time. I can tell that she will be refusing to share his company with me in the future.

I close the door in his face, angryily staring at the wood in front of me, as if I wanted to burn it to ash.

He knocks again and waits. I remain silent.

"Come on, Sasuke. I said that I was sorry," he says and it sounds like he's upset.

I take a deep breath and exhale before giving in and opening the door again.

"What do you want?" I ask, forcefully.

"I wanted to come apologize and explain why I haven't been able to spend time with you the last few days," he states the obvious.

I don't understand why, but I am weak to him and want to make him happy in some way.

I wordlessly gesture for him to enter the house.

He walks through the door way and makes his way into the kitchen where he sits the bag of food down on the table. Without looking at me, he pulls a wooden chair away from the table to sit down.

I follow his lead and sit down across from him. I am still angry, but I can't help but tolerate him.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asks, almost as if he's a child and I am an adult.

"How could I not be?" I ask, snapping at him and displaying my unhappiness.

"I would have come by if I could have, you know that, and besides you should be happy for me. You should be happy that I found her and I'm not alone anymore," he says and I feel like my heart is being restricted.

I can't breathe and without thinking about it, I put a pale hand up to my chest and hold the palm over where my heart ought to be before I stand again and face away from him, not wanting him to see this weakness in me.

Alone. He's felt alone all this time with me, when I felt the opposite. I felt less lonely with his company and it hurts to find out that he didn't feel the same.

"Teme?" he calls to me cautiously.

Although I'm angry, I decide that I still want us to be close. I still want us to share ourselves with one another and I still want to be able to talk about our past, instead of ignoring it as if none of it ever happened.

I decide to be honest with him.

"You say that I should be happy for you that you're not alone anymore, but I'm alone and I don't feel lonely when you spend time with me. I'm more upset that I wasn't good enough company to keep you from feeling alone, than the fact that you haven't been coming by," I tell him, my back still facing him.

I am not good at expressing myself with words. I have trouble forming the sentences and sentiments with my mouth, I need to face away from him in order to get them out. I don't want our eyes to meet as I am admitting my vulnerabilities.

He remains sitting at the table behind me. I can feel his intense blue eyes staring at my back.

"I make you feel less lonely? I didn't think that you felt alone in the first place, you were always running off to be by yourself," he says quietly.

"That was before, when I had a specific goal that I needed to achieve. When I couldn't allow myself to become distracted with relationships of any kind. Bonds would have made me weak and vulnerable, when what I needed at the time was to be unwavering and strong. I don't have any objectives left and I don't even have any of that power I had gained anymore either. I am able to feel how alone I am now. Living in this empty house with my family's memories scattered about the rooms. Watching everyone else I used to know paired up with those they were able to create strong bonds with, while I sit here on my own, left to regret not being around to have my own bonds like that," I tell him.

"I've never heard you talk like that before, Sas'. I've never heard you say anything like that you actually want friends and stuff," he says.

"If you haven't noticed, I've changed a lot in the last few years. Not wanting to live in solitude anymore is one desire I've picked up along the way, most likely from you," I admit.

"So you're mad that I didn't come by because you have no one else to be with?" he asks, almost as if he's angry with me.

That's not what I want. admitting that I look forward to his company has turned into a potential argument. I've been done arguing with him for a long time.

"No. I'm angry because I was looking forward to you coming to visit me like you always do, and you didn't show up even after I waited all day and was afraid to leave the house because you might have come by while I wasn't home," I tell him truthfully and know just how pathetic I sound.

"Really?" he asks as if he doesn't believe me.

"Why would I make myself sound like such an idiot if it wasn't true?" I say.

He looks at me with something akin to tenderness for some reason and I think that perhaps he understands what a big deal it is for me to open up this way for him, for anyone.

"Well, I'm sorry. I'll try not to do that again, but you have to understand that I'm not going to be able to come by every single day anymore. Besides, I didn't think that you even really liked me hanging around you so much. I mean, you're _my_ best friend, but that doesn't mean that I'm _yours_. So I just figured that I was bothering you anyway," he says.

I am surprised by his assumption. He is wrong and I plan to make him see that.

"After everything that has happened to us, how could you ever doubt that you're my best friend? I once tried to destroy you because you were the most important thing to me, because I thought that I had to. In the end, I did as you said and returned to this place with you because it was _you_ that wanted me to. I might have thought about coming back, but I wouldn't have if it wasn't you that was asking me to," I tell him as I turn my body back around so that I can now give him my attention.

He sits still and stares at me. his eyes have become wide and his mouth is slightly ajar. I can tell that he is searching his brain, looking for something to say in response.

He remains looking at me as I watch his mouth open far enough to speak.

"I didn't know that. I knew that you thought I was your friend and that's why you thought you had to kill me to gain power, but I didn't know that was the real reason why. I never thought that I could ever be that important to you. I'm surprised and I'm happy you used to think of me that way, because it's how I've always thought of you, but I don't want to talk about what happened a long time ago, ok?" he says.

"Why not?" I ask him, pushing force into my voice.

"Because it's done and over with," he says bluntly.

"But, we've never talked about any of it before. We just go about our days as if none of it happened. How are we supposed to get on with our lives if we don't talk about it?" I ask, feeling angry that he wants to live on in ignorance.

I had assumed all this time, that it was me that he thought didn't want to address it. that it was me he was holding back for.

"I already told you before that I forgive you for everything, even without you apologizing, so you should already have your atonement that you probably wanted. What else is there to talk about?" He asks, as he draws his eyes away from me and focuses them on the table in front of us.

I continue to look at him, as if I could persuade him just by staring at him with my eyes, but I no longer have that ability. I am no longer able to control people with the eye trait my clan is famous for. They took that away from me when they allowed me to become a citizen again.

"I want to talk about what happened because I want to tell you everything that you missed. Everything that you weren't there for, and I want to know what I wasn't present for as well. I want to know what I should have been here for," I tell him.

"Look, Sasuke, I don't want to talk about that stuff ok? It hurts too much. I don't want to know what you were out there doing all that time. I don't want to know who all you killed or fucked. I just don't care. What matters to me is how you are with me and the stuff that we do together now," he says sounding as if he is angry with me.

I see now what his avoidance is about. He doesn't want to know any of the darkness that might possibly surround our time apart. He doesn't want to know the extent of the things that I've done.

Although my brother is the only one that I've truly killed, he thinks that I had become a mass murderer during the years that I've been absent. I am not innocent. I have done many horrible and unforgiviable things in my lifetime so far, but I'm not as terrible as he believes.

Perhaps that is why he doesn't want to know. maybe he is afraid of the extent of what I've done. I won't have it. for the first time I realize that perhaps he is ashamed or afraid of the things i've commited in the past, and I won't allow it.

I won't allow him to keep on thinking that I'm worse than the things that he's already seen, when he was present for the worst of it. he knew full well what I did. I don't want him to think that there is so much more that he doesn't know.

He's been avoiding the topic of our past since the day he found me in that tree, too broken and worn to move, although I wouldn't have run from him. not that time. I won't ever run from him again. I won't let him run from me either. I no longer wish for that kind of life of emptiness and regret.

There was no epic fight this last time. there was no battle to be fought in order to get me to return. There was only his voice calling my name and my eyes focusing on his yellow hair as he stood beneath the wooden branch, looking up at me with that wide surprised mouth.

there was only the ragged question for my company and my head nodding in agreement before he jumped and landed where I sat to pick me up and throw me over his strong shoulder.

Then there was only the sound of my own breathing as I sat behind those metal bars for all that time. there was only the darkness seeping into my bones as the world turned around me and my body remained still and unchanged.

Through it all, he never once questioned me or brought up our past. He never wanted me to explain things. He never wanted me to tell him how wrong I was. he never wanted any of that, he only kept reminding me of how happy he was that I had returned to him and to the village.

But in ignoring everything and letting the pain sit and ferment in the pits of our subconscious minds, it created a coldness in us and a wedge between us. I want to be closer to him and that will never be possible if the mystery surrounding what's been done is present.

I take a long and heavy deep breath and prepare myself within the silent seconds as they pass by.

"I killed Itachi. I killed my brother," I say, unable to help the shaking of my voice.

I've never said the words out loud before. Not one person doubted who my beloved brother was struck down by, no one had to ask. Not even when they interrogated me, did they have to wonder.

The words hurt as I hear my own mouth saying them. they cling to the air and make me feel like I can't breathe.

He is quiet for a long time after I've spoken and I begin to feel nervous that he will decide to get up and leave, never to return.

He looks back up at me, his eyes wet and sad and a knot forms in my stomach. I decide to sit back down in my chair, exhausted already. I seem to always be the one making him upset.

His mood seems to have changed. It's as if he's no longer willing to fight with me over whether or not our past is worth discussing. Instead, he seems to be thinking about what he should say to me next. He is nervous. He picks at the edge of the wooden table with his fingernails.

"Who else?" he asks me, and my suspicions are proven correct about his motives. He is afraid that there is a long list of casualties that I've caused. That I am too much of a criminal for this village. that I am too much of a bad seed for him to have spent so much time trying to recover.

"They said that I was the cause of Danzo's death, but I wasn't the one to actually kill him. he killed himself because there was nothing else left for him to do. He tried to envelop me along with him in the explosion, but I was too quick. The eight-tails. I was supposed to capture him in exchange for assistance in attacking Danzo. I attacked and cut off one of those weird tentacles of his and decided to take that instead. I was the only one that could see with my eyes that it wasn't really his body, that it was just manifested chakra, so no one disagreed with me until after I had already fought with Danzo. I was to bring his body to the Akatsuki to be harvested and eliminated, meaning I was supposed to be the cause of his death as well. I've fought many that have gotten in my way, but I don't know any that died instantly. Perhaps they died from their injuries, but I don't know anything about that. That makes one, one official person that I've killed overall," I explain to him and can tell that he is surprised.

"So only Itachi?" he asks me and I look down at my hands where they rest on the table.

I still miss my brother. I miss my family, but there is nothing that I can do about it now.

"Yes, only Itachi, although I regret it every day," I admit.

"It's not like you knew. It's not like anyone did. We all thought the same thing that you were taught, so it's not like you knew the truth of what really happened beforehand," he says, and I feel like he's trying to console me.

"I know that now, but it took me a long time to get over the guilt of it all," I say and look at him.

His eyes meet mine and I can only hold still and watch the reflection of the overhead light above us bounce off of their endless blue color.

"Did you really want to destroy Konoha?" he asks me seriously.

"Aren't you the one that stood up during my trial and convinced the Hokage that that wasn't true?" I ask him, tilting my head slightly and waiting for his reply.

"Yeah because if I wouldn't have, she probably wouldn't have been so easy on you," he tells me.

There was a time that that was true, that I wanted to destroy and crush the leaf until nothing was left except ash and rubble. But that didn't last long. the idea of it soon faded out and away from me.

"I know," I say quietly and I really do.

I know that she wouldn't have given me such an easy punishment if she had thought that I was a threat. She probably would have sentenced me to execution instead if he had not spoken up for me.

"Well, did you?" he asks and I can tell that he is determined to learn the truth about it.

I wonder if he will think less of me. if he will regret bringing me back. if he will scorn me if he knows the truth.

"At first, I did, with every part of me. But once I got to see my brother that last time he asked me what was the most important thing to me, and after I started thinking about the answers, I realized that the destruction of the leaf would not only be unnecessary but also counterproductive," I say, telling him the truth.

He pauses our conversation, possibly thinking of a new question to ask me.

"And what was the most important thing to you when he asked?" he asks me.

"At the time, making my brother happy. I wanted to do everything that I could to make him feel proud of me to make up for misunderstanding him, including the tasks that he asked of me," I admit to him.

I briefly remind myself of what my brother's last words were to me before he departed and I watched him fade away like paper in the wind. He desired for me to return home and protect the leaf as best as I could. he wanted me to find someone to love and to trust in my best friend.

After all this time, I still don't know anything about what happened between Itachi and him, but what ever it was, it had a lasting effect on my brother.

"He wanted me to return to the village," I say.

"Then why didn't you right away," he asks me as if he is still angry with me for staying away.

He's never told me that he was angry with me, but I know that he was, or he is. I know that I hurt him with my absence and avoidance.

"I was too prideful. I left this place and kept telling everyone that I didn't want anything to do with you or the village. My pride and my ego wouldn't allow me to embarrass myself by coming back on my own," I tell him.

"That's not a good enough reason. That's not a good excuse to stay gone. No one would have ever even thought about all that, at least I wouldn't have. I just wanted you back, it didn't matter how or why," he tells me and his face has contorted to show a pained expression.

Suddenly I want to change it. make it better. make it into something else entirely.

"I know that it wasn't good enough. it wasn't right of me, but I honestly didn't think it would matter to you when it was that I came back as long as I did," I say.

"It did matter. It would have mattered so much if you would have come home sooner. We could have been together longer," he says.

"'So that we could be together longer.' You make it sound like we're lovers," I say and smirk to myself, to show him that this isn't a fight, it is just conversation.

"It's not like that Teme. It's just that we could have been like this a long time ago instead of only just now. You could have come home and we could have gotten stronger together. and if you would have come home sooner, you'd probably still be allowed to be a shinobi. You could have become such a great asset to the Anbu, but instead you sit here bored and forbidden to train," he says and the conversation has become something that I didn't want it to.

It wasn't my intention to make it into a fight, but that's exactly what it's become. I can't help but be angry at the mention of my inability to train or partake in anything related to the shinobi lifestyle.

Losing my ability to fight and train was what hurt the most when I returned to this place. I am upset that he has brought the topic up. I am pained to be reminded of my failure to maintain the power I had worked so hard for.

"Shut up. Forget it. I shouldn't have brought any of it up," I say.

"What? Because you don't want to hear the truth?" he asks me and I can see that is turning into the fight I didn't want to happen.

"Naruto. Just forget it. I'm sorry that I wanted to talk about it. I don't want to anymore," I tell him.

He looks at me and softens his eyes for me as if he's trying to apologize with them.

"No, I'm the one that should be sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned you not being able to work. I know it bothers you to sit around here all day with nothing to do. I understand that you worked really hard to be strong and now you can't even do anything with your skills. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he tells me.

I don't reply to him because I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I am unsure of what he wants to hear.

He is silent too for a while until I see his mouth move to speak.

"Itachi said that he left me in charge of you, that he _gave_ you to me. Did you know that?" he asks me timidly.

"What?" I ask.

This is the first time I've heard that. I knew that my brother wanted me to trust in him, but I didn't know that he had said something like that before.

"I don't know. I guess he trusted me to take care of you. he said that he could see inside me and that both you and I were strongest when we are beside one another" he tells me.

"Then will you do as he says and take care of me?" I ask, trying to tease him, but he is still serious.

"I promised him that I would, so I will always try to protect and take care of you, Sasuke," he tells me.

My heart beats loud enough to echo within my head and I know it to be audible outside of my body.

Although he has made my heart beat the way it is, I won't allow myself to seem weak or possess less strength than I do.

"I'm fine without you," I tell him.

"No you're not, and you're my best friend that apparently needs my attention. So from now on I'm going to try to give it to you the best that I can. I know that I'm gonna be busy for a while, but I'll still try to come by everyday," he says and I feel a little better that he's decided to try for me, but my pride still won't allow me to give in.

"I don't need your attention, I'm not a woman," I say.

"Hey, you're the one mad that I stood you up for only two days, _and_ the one saying that we sound like lovers," he says, ending the sentence with a small chuckle.

I try to hide the small smile that he's produced on my face.

"Shut up," I try to sound mean, but we both know my response is only meant to cover up my own embarrassment.

I refocus my attention on him as I notice that he has begun to stretch his arm across the table.

The very tips of his fingers land on my arm between my elbow and wrist. He lays them there, tan and unmoving against my pale skin. I try to catch his gaze with my eyes to get a better understanding of what he's doing, but he only remains captivated by where our skin has connected. His mouth has formed into a very small, almost invisible, smile as he looks down at the connection.

I feel confused. He touches me on many occasions, but always by what seems like an accident and not at all as purposefully as this. I am afraid of what this means, and even more frightened by the way my body suddenly feels warm and my head has become dizzy at the physical contact.

He is quiet for several seconds as we remain in this way. I stay as still as I can, because for some reason I don't want whatever this is to end so soon.

I can hear him draw a deep audible breath.

"I missed you really bad. I missed every part of you, even the bad parts when you were so mean to me. And I still miss you, when we're apart, like when I'm on missions and stuff. But I missed you most while you were gone, because you left me-us without any hope that we'd ever see you again. I missed training and arguing with you. I missed that face you get when you know something that I don't, and I missed the way you always knew what to do in every situation. There were so many times over the years that I needed your advice or just needed your approval, but you obviously weren't there to give me any of that. I just wanted you to come home so that we could get stronger together instead of apart. I just wanted to hang out and be near you again, even if I knew you were going to just be an asshole to me the whole time. Even when you were here, something in me made me not want to stay away from you. I couldn't help it then, and I can't help it now. It's like this magnetic force that keeps me chasing after you even though I know that you could potentially be the worst thing for me," he tells me and I can feel a strange twisted feeling in the bottom of my stomach that produces a hot warm feeling while keeping my anxiety level high.

There's tension in the air between us and I remain silent, knowing that he has more to say to me.

He finally looks up at my face and our eyes meet. I watch his mouth open to speak.

"I trained so hard. So incredibly hard just to fight that snake. I even left the village to get strong enough to stand a chance against him. I was so afraid that he'd take over your body and that you wouldn't be you anymore," he says before pausing.

I can tell that he doesn't know what else to say and so I let my tongue lash out just as it usually does.

"As if I'd let him," I say as I keep the eye contact between us.

I watch him lean in closer to the table as if he is trying to diminish the space between his body and mine.

"Yeah, I know that now, but I didn't know any better then. I thought you'd go along with it. I thought he'd give you the power you wanted and you'd keep up your end of the deal. I didn't know that you planned on killing him, so I thought it would be my responsibility to do so. I was so afraid of losing you," he says, the last part ending in a whisper, as if he doesn't want me to hear it.

I can't breathe again. His admission of not wanting to lose me makes it hard to think straight. Makes it hard not to think that he means it in a different way than what he really does. Makes it hard not to think that there's more that he wants from me than just friendship.

I take a deep breath and allow my brain to dismiss the thoughts. I've never thought of him in that way before, I will not begin to do so now, especially when it's not the way he sees me either. I refuse to become the victim of a one sided love, I won't allow it.

But I can't help but want clarification. I want to know what he meant. I want to know what he feels.

"You didn't want to lose me?" I ask, trying as hard as possible not to make my voice sound as snarky and cold as it usually does.

"No. No, I just couldn't. I couldn't let you go, so I trained as hard as I could and learned as much as my brain would retain in order to fight Orochimaru for you," he says.

"Fighting _for_ me?" I ask.

"Yeah, or over you, I guess. I needed him to know that you didn't belong to him and I needed to bring you back to us," he says.

I tilt my head upwards slightly, raising my chin, gesturing that I don't understand.

"And just who did you think I belonged to?" I ask.

"Me, us, I mean. Konoha, to anyone but him," he tells me and I can feel his fingertips on my skin begin to move slowly back and forth, as if he is caressing me softly.

It makes my head swim and it's hard to determine if it's all a dream my subconscious has conducted for me.

"That sounds awfully possessive, don't you think?" I ask blandly.

"Yeah, I guess that it is. but I couldn't help it back then. I couldn't help but be possessive over you. You were mine, my friend, my rival, my teammate and he took you. he stole you away, he didn't have any right to claim you," he says and I don't know how I feel about htat.

"And now? Would you still not be able to help it if I belonged to someone else?" I say.

"It depends on how you mean. If you mean a relationship with someone in the village, then I think that I would learn to be ok eventually even if I hated it at the start, but if you meant belonging to another group other than Konoha, I would fight just as hard as I did before to bring you back here," he says as he slides his fingertips to the other side of my arm, closest to the table, and allows his whole palm to rest over my skin as if he is holding my arm in his hand.

"If I took a lover, you would learn?" I say, trying not to sound as if I actually care what his response would be, but I know that it's futile.

I do care. I'm not sure why, but his opinion on my romantic relationship status matters to me. it feels as if I am suddenly aware of something that I wasn't before and I can't figure out what that might be.

"I'd learn, but honestly, I'd be jealous," he admits to me, looking down at where his hand has covered me.

"Jealous?" I ask simply.

"Yeah, I mean, you wouldn't have any more time for me. you wouldn't be available all the time, and I couldn't just come over whenever I wanted. You'd probably think of me the way that you used to and start saying that I was a nuisance and an annoying bother," he tells me, and I can see now how much I must have really hurt him when I called him those names when we were children.

"You're not a bother, and you wouldn't be. I told you before that I enjoy your company. You are my best friend, I would make time for you. You just told me that you're going to try to do that for me, why would I not do the same for you?" I tell him.

The skin on his face becomes flushed. A reddish pink tint has developed across his cheeks and on his collarbone where it is exposed above his jacket. I have embarrassed him.

"So, does that mean you have someone in mind?" he asks me and I feel the urge to tease him.

"Depends on how you mean. Did you mean as in a relationship, or as in sex?" I ask him and allow myself to smirk.

"Teme! You know what I meant. Do you have anyone that you want to date?" he asks.

"No, not that know of right now. Would it matter if I did?" I ask.

"No, I was only thinking that it would be really hard to see each other if both of us had someone we were seeing," he tells me.

"It wouldn't matter, I would make time for you no matter what your schedule was. I'm obviously not going anywhere anytime soon," I say and I watch him laugh the one I know so well.

As his laughter fills the kitchen, he releases my arm and repositions himself in his chair.

"Then how about in the other way? Is there anyone that you're interested in sleeping with?" he asks me, his laughter dying down and his straight face returning.

I'm confused to why he's asking me such a thing.

"That's not really your business, is it?" I say.

"No, I guess it really isn't, but I just wanted to know anyway," he says almost shyly.

"I might. I don't know yet," I tell him.

"When you know, will you tell me?" he asks.

I arch one of my eyebrows up in curiosity at why he cares.

"I thought we already discussed that it's not your business," I say, trying to sound cold although I am fully intrigued.

"Yeah, sorry. I guess I just feel like I should know. I tell you everything, so you should tell me things too," he says as if he's trying to convince himself more than me of the halfhearted excuse he's given me.

"I guess I could do that. If I find someone to hook up with, I'll let you know," I tell him with a small laugh.

"Oh, ok good. So you never even asked me how my date went," he says, trying to change the subject as if he is suddenly uncomfortable.

I still don't care how it went. I still have that overwhelming feeling that I don't want him to get along with her. But it obviously went well for her to have kept him away from me for days.

"I figured that if she's been staying over with you, that it went alright enough," I say.

"You're right, it went really great. I mean I was surprised that she wanted to go back to my place on the first date, but it's not like I'm complaining," he says.

"You slept with her the first night? Does she do that with the other guys that she sees?" I ask.

"Yeah we slept together, but she says that I'm the only one that she's seeing right now, so I guess it's alright," he says and I can tell that I've provoked something in him that has dampened his mood again.

"As long as you're fine with it, it should work out," I say, trying to cheer him up.

"Yeah, I mean it bothers me how many people she's been with and admitted to me that she's cheated on, but I like her and we get along well enough," he says.

I can tell that he's tried to be hesitant with liking her, but that's not in his personality. He's passionate and vibrant about the things that he cares for, including me I suppose. It's not like him to use caution or listen to reason, and I can tell that he tried all that before he made the decision to be with her.

I still don't want him to like her, but I do want him to be happy, even if it means that I have to sit here alone.

"It should be alright. As long as you like her, who she was with before shouldn't matter," I say.

I can visibly see his mood lighten. His facial features light up. I feel warm inside. I have made him happy again.

"Thanks, Teme. You know, you didn't even thank me for bringing you food," he says as he pulls the bag on the table closer to himself to rustle through the paper bag inside the plastic one.

"What did you bring?" I ask. I am able to smell the ramen before he answers me.

"I brought myself ramen, but I think that I'll have to heat it up. and for you, I brought salmon sushi and barbequed eel with rice," he tells me as he brings each item out of the bag by the piece and lays them in a line on the table.

My stomach rumbles with the sight of my food within their clear plastic containers. Without him asking me to, I take his container of ramen and heat it up in the microwave before returning it to him.

He smiles at me as I take my place at the table.

"You didn't have to, I could have done it myself. You take such good care of me sasuke. If you were a woman, you'd make some lucky guy a great wife," he says and I can feel my face heat up at the words.

I don't often blush or get embarrassed, my ego is usually too big, even in the state that I'm in. so it's a strange feeling to know that my face has become pink.

His eyes widen a bit in the way that they do when they realize something new and important. I know that he's noticed, but he spares me any further embarrassment by saying nothing and I feel grateful.

"Thank you for the food," I tell him as I open the paper wrapper to my disposable wooden chopsticks.

"I can break them for you, if you want," he offers as he holds out his hand to take them from me.

He has never offered such a thing and I can feel myself blush even harder. It is a common custom that in a couple, the man breaks the woman's chopsticks for good luck. I wonder what he's thinking as I hear the high pitched snap of the wood and have them returned to me, un-splintered and perfectly even.

I bow my head in another thank you as I start to eat my food.

When we've finished, I clear the table and hear him sigh from behind me as he still sits in his chair.

"I guess I should go, Anya's probably waiting for me at my house already," he says.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" I ask, full of hope that our routine will continue.

"I'll definitely try, ok?" he says and I try not to feel angry or jealous.

That's the word. Jealous. I scold myself. There should be no reason for me to feel jealousy. Only that's what I feel anyway and I can't seem to control it.

The last time I can clearly remember feeling jealous was over the relationship that my brother had with my father. My father loved him more than me, and I accept that now, but at the time I tried anything that I could just to measure up to my nii-san.

There should be no reason for me to feel envious over my best friend. What we have with one another is something entirely different than what he has with her.

I forget to catch myself before I sigh aloud. He only looks at me and a sadness comes over his face.

"I'm sorry Sasuke, I really will try," he tells me and I believe him.

I nod and stand as he leaves the table to make his way to the door.

We say our goodbyes and as he turns to leave, I feel an emptiness in my stomach like a hollow pocket of cold.

I feel lonely again in his absence, but I feel better that we were finally able to act as a funcitional friendship should behave. I am satisfied that we were able to discuss some of the things that we had been avoiding all this time. there is still a lot that I know we need to share with eachother, but for now, I am grateful that he was willing to try to start.

I am also surprised to find that I am perhaps more important to him than what I had always thought. that he thinks about while he's on his missions. That he missed me before and that he misses me still, even though I am grounded to this place, never to leave again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

For a month, our routine continues, but with splotches and rough patches spread throughout. Sometimes he comes to visit me, always in the evenings instead of the mornings like I am used to, and sometimes he doesn't come at all.

I sit in the room closest to the door, just in case I could possibly miss that hollow sound of his fist against the door. I wait for him every day, even if it's very likely that he won't show up, because every time I see him, he tells me that he will come again the next day. And as dumb and naïve as it makes me, I believe him.

That's the hardest part of this all, I believe him. Believe in him. Believe anything that comes out of his mouth. He's never intentionally lied to me before, so it's hard to believe that he could do it now.

But he does, and it hurts. He lies about when he will return, and although I have no proof, I know he lies to me about his relationship with that girl. He tells me that they get along well and that she doesn't mind when he comes to see me, but I am-was a highly skilled and trained shinobi, I know when something isn't right. I can tell that it's not as he says.

He shows up sometimes, in the middle of the night. Not the evening, but the late at night that counts as early mornings. He knocks on my door, waking me up and telling me that he can't sleep because he's too hyper. He's too anxious about a mission. He's too bored. Or my favorite, he can't sleep because he hadn't gotten to see me that day.

I know that it's something else, and I'm fairly sure that it has something to do with her. She stays with him most nights now, he's told me, and so it's hard not to think that she is the cause of his sleeplessness.

He tells me that she doesn't mind when he spends time with me, and yet when he spends more than a few hours with me, he stays away from me for days afterwards.

I know that perhaps it's just my imagination and that perhaps it's really him that wants to stay away from me. Perhaps he really does want to devote all his time to her. Perhaps he has gotten bored of me. Perhaps he'd rather spend time with the one he's getting sex from.

Although my mind is telling me that it's most likely his own choice not to come by as often as he used to, there's a dark and selfish part of me that still believes that it is her that tells him not to see me. That she is just as jealous of me as I am of her.

Yes, I am still jealous of her. I've tried to suppress that envy, but I can't. I still don't understand it or know why I feel that way, I just do and there's nothing that can change it.

I used to be someone that did anything possible to get what I want and to reach my goals. Although I no longer have larger goals, I am still just as ambitious as I always was, which is why it's necessary for me to remind myself of the changes I've gone through over the last few years. The man that I was before would do anything I could just to make him leave her so that I could have him to myself, but that's not something that I want.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind if they broke up and I could have him by my side every day like I'm used to, but I don't want to purposely split them up. I like to think that it's because I'm some wonderful person, but it's mostly because I want to keep him happy, and if she makes him happy then there should be no reason for any of that sort of trickery.

Only I don't believe that he's truly happy with her. Perhaps it is only my selfishness or skepticism, but I don't believe that they are happy with one another.

I suppose that he's happy that he feels he doesn't have to be alone anymore. I suppose that he likes having someone to wake up to and to talk to everyday. I suppose that he likes sharing his bed and fucking her whenever he pleases. But still. I don't think that they are as compatible as he could be with someone else.

But even then I can't think of a single other woman in the village that I could see him being happy with. None that I would want to see him with, at least.

It doesn't matter though, it shouldn't. He's with that one now, so there's no point in thinking about the possibility of losing him to another woman when I'm losing him to the one that he's got right now.

Losing him. The more I say it over and over in my head, the more it sounds like we have some sort of tragic love story going on in my mind. And that makes me feel uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable as in I've never before thought of us together because there was no possibility of it happening. We were two separate people with two very different sets of goals. I was always running off in the opposite direction of him to accomplish something that I thought should dictate my entire way of life, and he was somewhere else helping people and learning to be the best person that he could be. We grew up different although our pasts intertwined and our presents align and have become so twisted together it's hard to do without one another these days, but back then there was no possible way we could ever think of each other in that way.

And we still can't. We are both men, and I have never even loved another human being in that romantic way before. I'm not even sure how dating and being together is supposed to be, even though I like to imagine it's the same sort of relationship that he and I have right now, just with sex involved. Just a romanticized best friendship. Just a little bit more than what we have now.

I've never thought of sleeping with a man before, and I don't really understand how that works. I don't know what our bodies are supposed to do and I don't know if I would like it or not. No, that's a lie. I know that I would like it if it were with him.

There's always been something about him that draws me to him. Of course I've tried to go against that my entire life and keep him as far away from me as possible, but still that undeniable urge to be near him was ever present. I figured out a long time ago that there's nothing that can be done about it. I will always feel like I need to be close by to him.

As pessimistic as I am, I know that if it's with him, it would be fine. It would be good and it would be far less frightening than it seems. It's not like I'm delicate or anything, but I know him well enough to know that he'd be gentle with me. and I know him well enough to know that he would do anything he could to make sure that I was satisfied and fulfilled.

For a while now, I've been able to admit to myself that the smell of his skin and the look he gets sometimes as he watches my mouth move when I speak, excites me. It stirs me up inside and creates a strange sort of friction within me that makes me want to reach out and touch him. Makes me want to put my hands and mouth on him, just to feel, just to taste a small bit of him. It creates an insatiable heat in my stomach and chest and it takes all of my control just to hold still and restrain myself.

I don't know how things between two men are supposed to go, but I know now that I want him. I want his fiery heat spread out over my skin. I want his scent completely overtaking my own. I want his teeth to mark me in places only darkness usually sees. I want his hands to touch me like I can imagine they would.

I don't love him. I'm trying as hard as possible not to. I don't want that kind of vulnerability. I know that I wanted to be closer to him, but I don't want to be caught up in a one sided love and I don't want to hurt because of it. Most of all, I don't want to suffer the pain of rejection.

Even if I acted completely unlike myself and came out and told him that I think about doing perverted things to him almost every night as I lie awake in my bed, and if I were to admit to myself or to him that I loved him, I have this sinking feeling that he wouldn't feel the same way.

He gave up so much of his life just to train and chase after me in order to bring me back here so that we could be next to each other, but the kind of want that he feels for me is very different from the way I want him. I'm sure of it.

He touches me when he pleases and calls my name so softly sometimes that I have to stare at him a long time just to be sure that he's spoken to me at all, but this want inside me is more than what he could ever return.

And even if he wanted my body, it would still be significantly less than what I want his. I don't even know how all male sex works, but I have an idea how and I want him so much that my insides begin to ache with need just by the sight of him on my doorstep. I cannot imagine that he could ever want me that much.

And if he wanted me at least a little bit, enough to take me to bed, that's all it would be. Sex. That would be it and there would be nothing more.

We have an unbreakable bond that no one can ever take away from us, but it's not the same as love. It's not what movies and fairy tales depict of what love is supposed to look like. What we've got is a painful and tainted connection that keeps us clinging to one another and is surrounded in memories of anguish. It's not that feminine hopelessly romantic fluffy love that is expected.

So allowing myself to love him is out of the question. He does not love me. I will not set myself up for rejection and despair. I will not let myself become vulnerable in that way.

I know that he'd never intentionally hurt me, he's far too kind for that and I know that he cares about me, but it's not worth the risk. Maybe it would be worth it if I knew that there was a chance that he could ever love me back, but there isn't and so it's not.

I don't love him. I do not love him. I will not allow it. And I hate that I have to keep reminding myself not to forget that.

It's late as I sit on the floor of what used to be my father's study. The sun went down several hours ago and the air outside has become chilled and windy. The wood beneath me is cool and I can feel the cold spread over my skin through my thin pajama bottoms.

I spend time in here when I need to clear my head because it's what my father used to do. It was the one place that we weren't allowed to disturb him in. It was the one place he would go when he needed to cancel out the rest of the world.

His books still line the walls on their shelves, dusty tomes of words unread for over a decade and a half. His desk remains littered with the case notes of his last mission. The photograph of my mother posing sexily and sweet still sits in its frame, protected from the elements behind a barrier of glass.

I've kept the room this way because I am weak to my memories of them. I don't want to forget them. It's not like I want to think about my parents every moment of my life, but I still don't want to allow them to fade and be forgotten. This is the only room that I've left untouched. I even sit on the floor so that I don't disturb my father's chair.

All the other rooms have been changed, without a trace of them except for the pictures that remain of them. My parents room is now my own because of its large size. After years of living underground in a snake den with limited space, the room's size helps make me feel less crowded. Helps me remember that I am no longer down in that dark place with the smell of earth around me.

My brother's room has become a guest bedroom, most of his things gone and discarded in order to help me move on from the loss of Itachi. It was my best friend's idea to remove my brother's possessions, and like most of his ideas these days, it seems to have helped me.

The bedroom I kept as a child is now a storage unit, filled with boxes and crates of the things I no longer need as I live alone in this big empty house.

I remind myself that it is late and I should go to bed. I stand and try to work out the cramps in my legs where I had been sitting with them crossed for the last few hours, unmoving and attempting to meditate. My knees hurt from their former position and I try to move them about to ease the pain away.

I am startled by a hollow sound echoing through the silence of the house. My heart begins to beat from the sudden interruption. After I have calmed myself to realize that the sound has come from the front door, I take a deep breath and prepare myself.

There is no threat. The Anbu guard me and this house throughout the night, so I know that if anyone or anything had come for me, there would be some sort of commotion outside. There is only one person that would come to see me this late, and so I am unafraid.

I make my way down the wooden stairs to the first floor where I open the main door. He stands behind it, his face set in a frown and his eyes looking wet and tired. He remains silent, only looking at me as if asking for permission to come in.

I have never seen his face in such a state before. I have never seen this emotion on him other than after something I've caused myself and I start to feel nervous and afraid that I've done something to upset him. I am afraid that I've made him make that face again.

Without speaking, I reach out one of my hands and grip the sleeve of his jacket in my fingers. I tug him towards me as I back up into the house, gesturing for him to come in. he obeys and I don't let go of his clothing until we are in the living room.

He smells like beer, alcohol filling the air around him. I notice that he holds a bag of brown bottles in the arm I hadn't captured in my fingers. I can tell that he's already drank a lot before coming here to me.

"What's happened?" I ask, allowing my voice to be stern.

He sits the bag on the floor beside him as we stand in front of the couch. He is dizzy and almost topples over as he bends down. I reach out and grab his arm to help him maintain his balance. He puts his hand over mine and uses my body to pull himself up so that he is standing straight again, but he is still wobbling.

"Come sit down," I command him as I pull him closer to the couch.

Once we are both situated and sitting next to one another, I watch him focus his gaze on me.

"She was with someone else and I didn't know what else to do," he says very quickly and jumbled.

"What do you mean? Slow down," I tell him.

"We fought last night. I went to her house tonight to apologize, but she was in bed with some other guy. I didn't know what to do or say so I just left and now I feel lost and hurt and alone and like I don't deserve her," he tells me as he places his palm over his forehead as if trying to get rid of the memories.

"You feel like you don't deserve her?" I ask.

The rage I feel towards her wells up my throat. I can't comprehend how she could accept his affection and efforts and not appreciate it enough to stay loyal to him. I can't understand how she could throw such a gift away for the sake of selfishness. And I can't understand how he could think he doesn't deserve someone like her. But that's right. He doesn't deserve her, he deserves better.

My chest aches for him and my stomach burns. I think about how if I were the same man I was years ago, I would have did something about it. Confronted her. Found a way to hurt her. Anything, to make it feel right again.

"I don't. I'm not good enough for her, I'm just not enough. I mean we fight a lot, but all this time I thought we were fine, but apparently I've been wrong and I can't even fuck her right, that she has to go to someone else. I'm such a fuck up, I'm not good enough. You were right when you were always saying I wasn't enough. You've been right all along about what a baka I am," he tells me and as he leans his head down further, his forehead in both of his palms now and his elbows propped up against his knees.

I feel hatred towards myself. He's told me so many times since my return that he's forgiven me, but the pain that I caused him still lingers and it's obvious that he's still thinking about and remembering all the nasty hurtful things I've said to him over the years. It's plain and easy to see that I caused him some sort of despair and sparked a deep, but well hidden, self-consciousness inside him. I feel guilty and I know that there is nothing I can do to completely erase the names I had called him.

I over emphasize with him for the pain I know that he must be feeling. I broke him a long time ago and caused many pieces to weather and chip away, but she's seemed to finish the job by crash landing into him and breaking him completely apart with her actions. He now feels even more self-conscious, less than good enough, and as if it is his own fault. I decide that I hate her with all of me, even more than I once hated this village for what it did to my brother.

I want to reach out and touch him. to console him in some way, and so I give in to the urge and place a hand on his upper back as he sits bent over next to me. I hold it there and feel the warmth of his body heat spread into my flat palm. I want to feel it spread across the rest of my body, but I know that that can't happen.

"Naruto," I call his name softly as his breathing pattern quickens and I can hear small sobs leaving his chest.

He doesn't respond to his name, only remains as he is. It has become clear that he is crying and I can't help myself. I want to be closer to him, I want to be able to give him something back in return for all of his efforts and all of his kindness. I don't know how make him better in this moment and so I just give up and give in.

I wrap my arms around his upper body, my chest presses against his hard shoulder, and my two hands connect at his other one. I can't deny that it feels good to hold him in some way. To have physical contact. To administer some sort of affection.

The noises he's made in his despair have ceased and there is only the sound of our breathing within the room. I press my forehead against the side of his head and allow the yellow hair to cover my closed eyes. This close, I can smell his sweat and the remnants of beer. I sigh against him where my mouth hovers close to his ear.

I can feel his heart beat bouncing and pulsating through my arm where it stretches over his back. It causes my own to quicken and fall in alignment with his.

"Naruto," I say his name again in his ear.

This time he moves his head slightly to show that he heard me.

"Yeah?" he asks without looking at me.

"You're not a baka. You're not lacking in anything. You're great, anyone knows that. You are more than enough. It's her that doesn't deserve you. If there's a reason that she went looking for someone else, it has nothing to do with you. It only makes her a selfish whore that isn't good enough for you," I tell him what's in my head and what I know, hoping he will understand that he's not to blame for her disloyalty.

He is silent for a long time and remains still within my arms as I hold him against me. His breathing moves his entire body, which in turn moves mine where it touches his.

"Sasuke. I've waited so long for you to say something like that," he tells me and I can tell that his voice is filled with emotion.

"I say those things now because they're true and because I was completely wrong about you when we were kids. You are nothing like the names I called you back then. I never corrected it all before because I let my pride get in the way. So stop moping around and blaming yourself. She doesn't know how good you could be to her and that's her own fault," I tell him.

Finally he shifts in my arms and I release him. He decides to sit up straight with his back against the couch and looks at me.

His eyes are still filled with water and his face has become red and splotchy with either the alcohol or the sadness, or a combination of both, I am unsure.

"You really mean that?" he asks me as if he is a child.

"Of course I do," I confirm.

"Then why would she go be with someone else? Do you think I don't fuck her good enough?" he asks me and I don't know how to respond to his last question.

I say what first comes to mind.

"She went to bed with someone else because she's selfish and I know that it has nothing to do with you. You're not the reason that she can't get satisfied. I'm sure that you fuck her better than anyone else could, and I bet she's really disappointed with that guy's performance right now too. She probably regrets not sleeping with you tonight instead, already," I tell him.

Then he smiles and it feels like a weight has lifted. I missed his lit up face as he grins. It makes me feel as if that expression is just for me.

"You're so good to me Sasuke. You really do take care of me. I doubt that's the truth, but thanks for trying," he says and a wave of sadness passes over him and I now know his smile to be fake.

"Who are you to say that it's not true? Have you asked her if you're the best fuck she's ever had before? I bet if you did, she'd tell you that you were," I say, smiling along with him.

But I still don't want to think about them together. I don't want to imagine her body entangled in his. I don't want to know what it would look like with him on top of her, sweating and exhausted. I don't want to know if he pleases her and I don't want to know how much he craves her. I don't want to know any of that, but I know the subject can't be avoided anymore with the way that he feels.

"That's the thing, she's always comparing me to her ex's. She's always saying that I'm either better or worse than them, so I know that I'm not the best," he says.

My mouth moves faster than my brain and I cannot monitor what my tongue has let out.

"Then prove her wrong. Prove that you're better than all the rest," I say.

"By doing what? Going back over to her house, fucking her, and then asking who was better in bed, me or him?" he says and I realize the stupidity of my comment.

"No, that's not what I meant. I don't know what I meant," I admit to him.

Then a strange look manifests in his eyes and I can't tell what it means. I have never seen this look before and it both frightens and excites me the way his blue irises have transfixed and focused on me as if I am the only other living thing on the planet.

"Sasuke, why are you being so nice to me? Is it because you pity me?" he says and I feel like a knot has formed in my stomach.

It is the opposite of how I feel and I'm not sure how to make him see that.

"I don't pity you, there's nothing about you that I could. I am angry that she could hurt you like that, and there is a large difference between pity and empathy. Asking me why I am being so nice to you while you sit on my couch drunk and depressed is a very dumb question. You are my best friend and you could have gone anywhere else but you chose here, what else am I supposed to do when you need me?" I say and I notice that he's watching me even closer now. I feel foolish for assuming that he needs me, but his expression doesn't change and he doesn't seem angry with me.

"You take such good care of me, Sas'," he says and it flatters me, but I know it's a lie. I am not there for him nearly enough. I have never been as open or as friendly as he has been to me and I have never given him anything in return, although I've wanted to for a long time.

"No I don't. I take everything that you give me because I'm selfish and greedy and don't know how to give you anything back," I say and look down at my hands that I have folded in my lap.

I analyze the long slender fingers, my fingers, my weapons. I observe the callouses and look at the absence of fingerprints where they have all been burned off in fear of discovery during my rouge years.

I am ashamed that I needed to admit aloud that I have nothing to give him in return of all the things he has given me. I am feeling guilty that although I have offered him nothing, he believes that I have.

"No Teme, you do. You treat me so well now, I can't believe it sometimes how nice you are to me, like right now. You let me come see you every day when I can and you listen patiently when I tell you about my day. You don't turn me away on nights like tonight when I come here out of nowhere. You let me hang out with you when I'm lonely and you don't criticize me anymore. You don't call me names and you treat me like an equal, like a superior almost. You treat me better than what I bet you realize. All I ever wanted all this time was just this," he says and points a finger between the two of us to gesture that he means the way that our relationship is in the present.

"But those are just things that I am supposed to do as your friend. They aren't anything special," I say.

"But they're special to me! Don't you get it? I just want to be by your side. I just want to be near you and share things with you. I just want to see your face whenever I want to and I want to be able to hear your voice other than just in my head. I just want you," he says.

Saying he just wants me. My heart begins to beat faster like a sporadic uncontrollable rhythm in my chest and I can't breathe.

I'm not sure if I heard him correctly and I am suddenly nervous. I am nervous that I have misunderstood him and will have to deal with the disappointment. I am nervous that I know exactly what he means and then there will be more to this.

"What do you mean?" I ask him as I hold his stare and wait for an answer.

He doesn't say anything but he continues to stare at me before moving his eyes down to focus on my mouth and I know what he's thinking about. I can feel the tension in the air between us as he moves his face closer to mine.

I am embarrassed and nervous and not sure how to respond, and so I close my eyes. He presses his mouth against mine and I can taste the alcohol on his breath and feel his chapped lips against my own soft ones. He is warm and inviting.

I remain still, waiting for him to pull away from me and decide that it was a mistake and an accident. He doesn't. Instead he moves his body closer to mine on the couch and presses his lips harder against my own. He moves them in a captivating pattern and swipes a wet and warm tongue against my bottom lip.

I don't know why he has done this and I know that he drank enough to slur his words and become more emotional, but I can't help how I feel. The kiss makes me feel light headed and dizzy. It makes me feel like everything will be alright with him and with me. It makes me feel like this was meant to happen. And so I make the rash decision to kiss him back.

I move my lips against his and open them when he rubs his tongue against me again. I allow him to explore my mouth with it and it stirs me up inside. It immediately makes the need in me arise and I feel like I already can't get enough of him.

I have had sex with women before, each one more beautiful and strong than the last, but I have never felt this way before. There has never been the same kind of fiery heat that's burning me up inside like it is now. I have never had such an immediate reaction as the one that I'm having now.

He tastes like beer and ramen and I know now that he must have drank an awful lot more than I had previously assumed before because I can feel him sway and press against me, trying to keep his balance as our mouths connect.

I move my tongue to rub against his own and hear him let out a deep moan as if it is the first time he's ever been kissed in this way. I know that's not true, but all the same it makes me feel even warmer inside.

The kiss lasts for a long time until we need to disconnect to catch our breaths. I can hear him breathing hard as he presses his forehead against mine when our mouths come apart.

"Sasuke, you taste so good," he tells me while slurring his words slightly and I feel the heat spread down in between my legs.

I can feel myself begin to harden and become stiff within my trousers and I feel embarrassed. I have never reacted this way from a single kiss. I have never felt like I was at my limit from just this small bit of affection.

"You taste like beer," I tell him, not knowing how else to respond.

I've slept with others before, but they were just convenient and meeting a need. Neither of us ever wanted anything from one another except sex, so there was no need for conversation or romance or even kissing on the mouth. I don't know how to converse with someone in a situation like this and I am even more nervous than before.

He laughs at my observation and places a hand in my dark hair and tugs on the strands hard enough to let me feel it, but not painfully so.

"I'm sorry, next time I won't drink first," he tells me with a grin and I feel strange at the thought that he could be suggesting that this, whatever this is, will happen again.

Honestly, the thought makes me happy and wards off that fear of rejection I felt earlier, but makes me wonder just what this is to him and what he expects this to become.

At this point I'm not sure if this kiss and this affection is a makeshift love confession, an invitation to sex, or simply just a kiss. The uncertainty frightens me because I don't know what to anticipate.

I try to calm myself and allow him to lead me anywhere that he wishes in whatever direction he desires.

I remain quiet and wait for him to give me a sign of what he wants me to do.

He breaths in the space between us before connecting our mouths together again and sucking the air away from me. It's pleasurable but scary because of the unknown.

The next kiss lasts longer than the first one and I feel him press his chest into me in a hard and commanding gesture. He pushes me back until I fall backwards on the couch cushions. He repositions himself without ever breaking our lips apart and places himself completely on top of me.

His body heat is mind numbing as it radiates into me and I feel like all the oxygen in my lungs has left my body and I need to gasp for more. I feel a layer of sweat form on my skin beneath my clothes and on my neck.

He presses his hips and groin into my own and I can't help but let out a long breath at the pleasure as I feel that he is just as hard as I am beneath my pajama bottoms.

"Let me touch you, Sasuke," he commands and I can't help but give in.

His tan and worn hand moves beneath my shirt and caresses my stomach muscles. The fingers trace my outline as they continue their ascent up to my chest where they brush against one of my nipples, causing me to suck in a sharp breath from the foreign touch.

I have never been touched in that way before and it makes me feel uncomfortable because I like it.

"I'm not a girl," I tell him as he moves his hand to play with the other one. His movements are soft, but sloppy. He is still drunk.

"I know. Don't you like this?" he asks me as he kisses my neck and makes the flames within me burn even hotter.

I decide not to protest his actions because it's no longer a secret that I want this. It is no longer a hidden desire that I wanted to be with him in this way.

He moves his mouth away from the tenderness of my neck and repositions himself so that we can look at one another.

"You didn't answer me. Do you like this or not? I can never tell with you and I'm not sure," he tells me honestly.

There's a sense of worry reflected within his blue eyes and I can't help but give him a small smile in return at the notion that I wouldn't want this.

He seems confused and doesn't say anything to my reaction. I decide that reassurance is important to him.

"Just do what you want, you're making me feel really good," I tell him and he smiles. I have pleased him.

He leans in close enough to kiss me again and for some reason, I start to think of the very first kiss that we shared when we were in the academy.

It was my first ever kiss and it was by accident, but I remember the way it made my cheeks turn red and my heart beat loud enough to make me notice. I remember the way that everyone stared at us. The way the girls were jealous of him. The way the boys laughed. And I remember that I didn't care. I didn't mind that he was a boy and I didn't mind what everyone else thought. I only cared for the fact that a kiss had been stolen from me in the first place.

It makes me let out a contented sigh at the realization that he no longer has to steal kisses from me accidentally, that's no longer valid. I make the decision that no matter what this is supposed to be, just a de-stressing bout of affection that could turn into just fuck or something more, I will give him a kiss willingly whenever he wants one.

In that way I can not only give him something in return for everything he's done for me, but I will get to feel that closeness that I want with him and get to remember this moment.

I press my lips harder into him to show him that he's making me happy by allowing our mouths to come together in this way. I can tell that he is aroused more so by my actions by the feverish way he rubs his tongue against my own.

I raise a hand up to tug his yellow hair between my fingers. The strands are softer than I had expected and they slide smoothly against my skin.

He gently pulls his lips away from mine to take in a breath of air.

"Mmm Sas' you have no idea how crazy you're driving me," he tells me and I can't help but moan at his words.

It pleases me. I would be lying if I even tried to say that it doesn't. It pleases me to know that I am making him feel good enough to make him want me. And it feels so good to know that I'm making him want me.

I've been wanted before and wanted in many different ways for several reasons, but this is different. I realize in this moment that there is nothing like the feeling of being wanted by someone you want just as much equally back.

I stop myself in the thought. The level of want is not equal because I know that I want him more than he wants me. I want him for his affection. For his company. For his smile and for his laugher. For his predictable comments. For his optimism. For his selflessness. For his gentle words and soft stares. There is no doubt that I want his body too, but I want so much more than that. It is unequal because I don't know exactly what he wants with me. I know that he wants my body, but I don't know about anything else.

I think about the ways in which I want him and try to remind myself not to fall in love. It would bring me nothing but vulnerability if I did.

I pull myself back into the present and smile at him with my eyes as I open my mouth to respond.

"You make me just as crazy," I tell him.

Then he removes his hand from under my shirt and moves farther above me, holding himself up with one of his hands.

For a moment I am afraid that I have done something wrong to make him pull away from me, but he quiets the thought as he uses his other hand to gently pull my shirt over my head so that my torso is bare.

He then removes his own and I look at the strong muscles of his chest and arms. I feel that hotness pass over me again.

I can feel his eyes roaming and scanning over my body, taking in the details of the expanse of skin. His gaze lingers on the scars that stretch out over my chest, the consequences of battle.

I feel self-conscious, thinking that he finds me less attractive with them. I am also afraid that now that he fully realizes that I am not in fact a woman, he will want nothing to do with me.

"You're beautiful," he says then quietly and I can feel myself drawing closer to forgetting not to love him.

"I'm not a woman," I remind him.

"So you said. For someone that gets an awful lot, you're really bad at taking compliments," he says and I can feel my face grow warm. I am blushing from his words.

He smiles at me then and brings a hand up to brush a few black strands of hair away from my face.

"You're beautiful," he says again, this time even more softly than before.

I feel compelled to say something in return, but I'm not sure what would be appropriate. I am not used to conversation during this sort of thing.

"You are too," I tell him awkwardly.

He regards me for a short second before he laughs at me.

"You're not very good at pillow talk either, are you Teme?" he asks me, his words slurred.

I can't help but feel hurt that he is mocking my honest attempt. I am upset that he doesn't understand that I'm trying my best.

His face drops and changes as the laughter is gone from his expression. I know that he can tell that he has offended me.

"Sas' it's ok, I'm only picking with you. I'm just surprised is all," he says.

"Surprised at what?" I ask him.

"Well, I figured that since you've fucked lots of girls before, that you'd know how to talk sexy or sweet or whatever to them. But you're just kind of awkward. It's just not what I expected," he tells me and I feel upset.

"You make it sound like I've slept with tons of women, when in fact it's only been two or three, and it was only ever for sex and not since I came to back to the village. Which was a long time ago in case you've forgotten. It was only to fulfill a need and conversation wasn't necessary. I didn't know them before or after we slept together, there was no reason for doing anything to make it seem like we knew one another," I tell him.

He stares at me as if I've said something unexpected and then kisses me as he places all of his weight on my body again.

"Well, you know me, we aren't strangers. But it's alright, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just listen and let me talk to you then," he says after he breaks the kiss.

I nod in agreement, but I decide that I do want to try for him. I do want to learn how to please him with my words. I do want to arouse him by just the things that I say.

"Your skin feels so good under my hands," he says as he begins to rub one of his hands up and down my side and then allowing it to land on my hip when he is finished.

"Touch me more," I try to command him, trying again at conversation.

He moves away from me and sits on his knees, disconnecting our bodies. He leans his face down to my stomach and places both of his hands on my waist as he presses his mouth into the area just above the waistband of my trousers and beneath my navel.

His mouth is hot and soft and it makes me moan at the contact. It feels good. I arch my body up off of the couch to try to make his lips press into me harder. I can hear his breath. It comes out ragged and strained and I know that I have affected him.

He slides his hands away from my hips and repositions them beneath me as my body is raised off of the couch. I allow my body to gently fall back down to the cushions and feel his palms squeeze my behind in his hands.

He licks up the sweat that has gathered on the surface of my soft skin with his tongue and I can only moan at the sensations.

"It feels good," I tell him.

I can feel my hardness pressing into the fabric of my underwear and I involuntarily thrust my hips up.

He detaches his mouth from my stomach and looks up to me with what seems like mischief in his eyes.

"Do you want me Sasuke?" he asks and I feel the need for release settling like a heavy stone in my lower half.

"Yes," I tell him and watch his mouth shape into that grin that he gets when he sees something that he wants.

"How much?" he wants to know.

I don't know how to give him a numerical figure and I'm too nervous to admit the truth of how much I want him and for what reasons, so I decide to settle for the shortest answer that I can give.

"A lot," I tell him quickly and close my eyes.

"Only just now, or later too?" he asks with a pause and a shake of his head, as if he's trying to make the words come out clearer in his drunken haze.

I don't know what kind of answer he's looking for, but I decide that it doesn't matter. he most likely won't remember any of the things we've said when the alcohol settles in his blood stream.

"A lot and all the time," I admit as I soften my eyes for him, a look I have never shown to anyone else.

He doesn't reply and he doesn't show any particular emotion on his face. my stomach twists in the possible reactions to my answer he may be having.

He moves so that he can hook his fingers in the waistband of my pants and pulls them down along with my underwear over my pale thighs. I suck in a sharp breath as my overheated erection touches the slightly chilled air in the room as it's freed. He bluntly stares at my nakedness, as if he's never seen anything like me before.

He remains silent and only continues to look at my body. I get the feeling that he doesn't know what to do with me now that he has me this way. I feel frightened that he will change his mind.

I reach out and touch the side of his face, the pad of my thumb tracing the lines of his raised scars on his cheek. I have gained his attention and he looks up at me.

"Can I taste you?" he asks me and I don't know how to respond.

I've never been asked such a question before. I am also still nervous at the thought that I don't really know how sex between men works. I get the basics and where things are supposed to go, but I don't know what's supposed to happen. An anxious knot forms in my stomach.

I nod to show him that I'm alright with whatever he wants to do to or with me.

His eyes move away from my face and land on my member before he presses his lips to the tip. Clear liquid has formed on the head and I know that he can taste it. He kisses it again before opening his mouth and brushing his tongue up and down the length of me.

It is all I can do not to buck my hips up into him to make him press his tongue against me harder. He looks up at me as he decides to take my entirety into his mouth. The heat is overwhelming and the dampness is makes my head confused and hazy.

I moan aloud and feel a vibration on my cock as he moans along with me. I place a trembling hand into this hair and pull on it, attempting to guide him into the rhythm that I like to use as I touch myself.

He takes the hint and allows me to control him. He sucks on me and runs his tongue over my skin, making loud and lewd slurping sounds as he allows the head of my member to slide out of his mouth each time he strokes me.

It feels too good and I can't hold myself back. I feel the pleasure building up and almost ready for release.

"Naruto, I'm really close," I tell him, not knowing how else to warn him.

He stops his movements and removes his mouth from around my erection as he smiles.

"I was only sucking on you for a few minutes, Teme. I couldn't have made you close with just that," he says.

I don't know how to tell him that it hasn't taken me long to get to my release because I've wanted this for a long time, even longer than I realized before. I've wanted him. I've wanted his touch and his eyes on me. I've wanted his sweat and his breath over my body.

I don't know how to tell him that I've never been this aroused before, not even with any of my previous partners. I don't know how to tell him that he's making me feel so good that it aches.

I don't know what to say so I make the decision to stay quiet.

"You're quick, but I bet it's only because you haven't been with anyone in a while, huh?" he says and I nod again in response.

"It's alright cuz' at least I know that I'm making you feel good. And I don't know why, but it makes me feel great to know that I'm the only one that's touched you in a while," he says.

I watch him bring a tan finger to his mouth and lick it before placing it in his mouth and sucking. I feel as though he is teasing me, trying to make me remember what it felt like to have his mouth around me. It works, I want more of his mouth.

But it's obvious that that wasn't his original intention for the action when he places his hand between my legs and beneath the soft pouch under my erection. He startles me as he rubs his wet finger over the ring of muscle that's never been touched before.

My respiration patterns speed up and I can feel my chest inflating and deflating at a much faster rate than before. He notices and looks up at me at he places his free hand on my stomach.

"What's wrong, Sasuke?" he asks me, his words less slurred than before as if he's sobering up little by little as time passes.

I don't know what else to do but tell him the truth.

"I've never been with a man before," I admit.

"Me either," he tells me and it's a surprise. The way he is almost commanding in his actions and gestures suggests that he's done this sort of thing before.

"Then how do you know what you're doing?" I ask.

"I don't. But I know enough. Don't worry, I'll make you feel good," he tells me and I feel slightly less nervous knowing that he's just as blind to this as I am.

"If you're sure," I say hesitantly and watch his mouth tilt up at the corners.

He gives me a small breathy laugh.

"Yes Sasuke, I've never done this before, but I know what I'm supposed to do. Jiraya made absolute sure of that," he says and my mind immediately worries about what that means.

My discontent shows in my facial expression and he laughs again.

"Ha ha, calm down Sas'. I mean, he was the one to give me my first sex talk and he made sure that I knew what to do with a guy as well as a girl. I will have to take a bottle of sake to his grave sometime soon I guess to congratulate him on his great intuition," he tells me and he give another laugh.

"What's so great about his intuition?" I ask and immediately feel dumb because I care about something I think is probably completely off topic.

"Oh, because he predicted that I'd end up being with you at some point. That's why he made sure I knew about all kinds of sex, not just with women," he answers.

I feel my face heating up again and my eyebrows knitting together in attempt to recover some of the sternness that I'm known so well for.

"And why would he think something like that?" I ask, my voice a little higher than intended.

"How could he not think something like that, everyone did. I mean, the way I chased after you like crazy and spent all my time training to either catch up to you, rescue you, or fight you to the death and all, gave people the sort of impression that I had a crush on you. Plus there was a period of time when I couldn't stop talking or thinking about you to the point that I thought I was going crazy, so I guess he just naturally assumed and thought that I needed to be well informed should you possibly like me back," he tells me.

I feel my heart ache at the thought that he reacted that way to my absence. I feel it beat and pound at the thought of him having an infatuation with me.

"Did you?" I ask him quietly.

"Did I what?" he asks.

"Did you have a crush on me? was he right?" I ask quietly.

"Oh I don't know, but at least he was right about the sex part though," he says.

I feel like he's keeping something from me and I don't like it. I feel cheated out of the answer that i asked for. i feel disappointed that he didn't answer as honestly as I knew he might have years ago.

I take a breath and decide that I need to hear a real answer. I need to know right here and now if he ever loved me or didn't at all. I need to know so that I can figure out what this encounter is supposed to mean. I need to know so that I'm not caught off guard and surprised.

"You don't know if you had a crush on me or not?" I ask him shyly.

"I don't know. I don't know," he says and then he's quiet.

The silence seeps between us and I can feel the heat from earlier fading away into a cold loneliness. I know that I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't feel unhappy right now. I should be elated that he wants me even a little at least, just enough to be this way with me.

I don't love him. I don't love him, despite what every symptom I'm experiencing is telling me. I don't love him and that's the end of that.

I shouldn't have expected more. I shouldn't have assumed that he'd actually have those sorts of feelings for me, especially when we were younger. I shouldn't have thought that he could ever have a crush on me of all people. on a rival. on a traitor. On a boy.

I shouldn't have expected him to blurt out some romantic tale of unrequited love like a romance novel. It was my mistake to have allowed myself that small sliver of hope deep within myself.

But still, I don't know what to say or how to admit my disappointment. I don't know what to do to advance on and I can feel my erection slowly deflating and my release falling away from me.

These days he's had the ability to read my emotions through my expressions, a talent he only just acquired. It's as if he knows that I don't want the conversation to end and that I'm looking for something more despite my hard attempt to deny it.

I watch him open his mouth as if to speak but only lead to failures and three false starts as he moves his lips at the beginning of the words then gives up and finally looks away from me to try a last time.

"I really don't know, ok? I never really thought about it before, I never had to. there was no reason for it, you were gone and you hated me, and if you ever did come back you wouldn't want me. so there was no point to even bother asking myself how I felt, it would only lead to a heartache if it turned out that I did like you. So I don't know how to answer you, I don't know how I felt then and I don't really know now either. But what I do know is that whatever it is that I felt for you was different than how I felt about Sakura and different than how everyone says they feel about their guy best friends. And I also know that I want to fuck you. maybe you don't want me to say it like that, but it's true. I really really want to fuck you right now. I'm so fucking hard it hurts," he says inhaling sharply and squinting his eyes to put the pain into words.

His answer shouldn't be enough. but it is, at least for now. I feel satisfied with his answer because of the potential it presents. There's a possibility that he loved me at some point in his life and that's enough for me.

At saying that he wants me. at saying what he wants to do to me. at admitting that he needs me so much his body aches, relights the fire in my groin and I know that I'm hard again, if not harder than before.

"Then fuck me," I say in a serious tone.

His breath comes out loud and his eyes roll upwards towards the ceiling before he closes them and tries to calm himself down.

"You're so fucking sexy, you're gonna make me cum without even touching me," he tells me and for a moment I can't believe it.

I decide that the sudden increase in desire has to do with his blood alcohol content and with the fact that he's shared a piece of himself with me that he hadn't before.

My cock throbs at his words and the imagery as his body heat sinks into me. I place my hand on the side of his jaw to show him that I still want him.

I see him open his eyes and hear him take a long deep breath.

"Uh, ok, right. Just relax," he says and I can't tell if the soft and reassuring command was meant for me or for himself.

But I don't mind. I don't mind at all. I am too nervous to care.

"It'll be easier on both of us if you relax your body," he tells me, this time clearly directing the command to me.

I start to breathe harder again at the realization that what's he's about to do will most likely hurt me.

Then as if the wild untamable desire in him has cooled down, he leans down to kiss me with a tenderness that wasn't there before.

"Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. If it does, we'll stop. Do you want a drink?" he asks me as he lifts himself off of the couch and away from me to rifle through the bag he brought.

He pulls a brown glass bottle from the bag and opens it with his index finger and thumb. I watch him from where I lay as he lifts it to his mouth and takes a long drink of the liquid. I watch his throat move as he swallows.

He holds it out to me and I accept it. I don't drink very often, even now that I am unemployed with nothing better to do these days. But still, I take it from him because he has offered it to me.

I sit up from the couch, my legs still straight out in front of me and slightly opened enough for him to fit between them.

The bottle is smooth within my fingers and the beer is bitter as I take a drink of it. I hold it back out to him and he takes it from before downing the rest of the entire bottle.

He burps as he finishes it and lays it on the wooden floor. He sways as he repositions himself between my legs. He pulls my trousers the rest of the way down my legs and off of my ankles and feet. He discards them on the floor near the bottle and I am completely naked.

He rubs my side with a warm palm as he re-wettens his finger. He places it outside of my entrance and leans down to kiss me on my mouth as he pushes it into me.

The feeling is strange. I have never felt anything like this before and I can admit to myself that I am uncomfortable. But he doesn't seem disgusted or discouraged at the idea that he will have to enter me there in such a different place.

He kisses me harder and I kiss him back to show him that I still want this, no matter how odd it all feels.

He begins to move his finger in and out of me, I can feel that he's trying to stretch out my muscles as he thrusts it into me. I wince at the pain as he presses a second finger into me. he moves them both.

I can feel water form in the corners of my eyes from the deep and sharp sting and I feel like I can't breathe.

"Shh, Sasuke, it's ok. It's supposed to feel good soon," he whispers to me as he continues to kiss me.

The pain begins to fade away and I can focus on the way his bare chest is pressing into my body as he does this and the way that the tip of my cock brushes against his skin as he moves his arm.

He notices the change in me and removes his fingers from inside me. He sits up on his knees and uses both hands to undo the belt and button to his pants. He pushes them a small way down his thighs, but keeps them on.

His cock is bigger than my own, but not by much, and a shade slightly darker than the rest of him. The veins protrude and throb full of blood. It scares me to know that he intends to put it inside of me.

It frightens me because I'm afraid of the pain it will cause, but the roles that he's decided for us don't upset me. It should bother me that he thinks that I would be alright as the one on the bottom, the one pretending to be the woman. It should bother me that he thinks he would be best at the one on top, not having to endure any pain. But it doesn't, because for some reason, I feel like these roles fit us. I feel like this is how it's supposed to go.

He reaches a hand into the pocket of his pants and pulls out the square wrapper of a condom. He opens it and throws the plastic wrapper to the floor and fits the slimy rubber over the tip of his member. He rubs it until it is comfortable on him and gives me a small reassuring smile.

I watch him spit into his hand before wrapping it around himself and stroking. It makes my own member twitch with the anticipation of what could happen next.

"I'll try to be careful," he tells me and I believe him.

Even drunk and emotionally distraught, he's just as kind and gentle as ever. He's just as I would expect him to be.

"I know," I tell him as I lay back on the cushions, my body lying straight as I look up at him.

He leans back down to kiss me as he takes a hold of one of my legs. He positions it so that it is resting around his back, the heel of my foot landing on his lower back. I bend the other one up in the same way around him so that I now hold him with my legs.

"You're beautiful, Sasuke," he tells me a third time and I reach up to pull him closer to my mouth.

I kiss him hard. In this moment I am able to realize that I've broken my own rule. I've disobeyed myself and fallen in love with my best friend.

I scoff at myself internally. It's not like I've just suddenly and magically fallen in love with him, I'm fairly certain that I've felt this way for a long time, it's only the actual concept of love that is new. It's only this new label that is different, when before I didn't know what my feelings for him meant. The desire of closeness. The waiting around for him to show up. the loneliness without him here by my side. The jealousy I've felt towards that woman. The way I just willingly let him bring me back to this place without putting up a fight. It was all because I love him.

I am in love with my best friend. My rival. My former teammate. I am sure that I am in love and I can no longer ignore how vulnerable I feel. I can't dismiss the fear I feel.

The pain of the possibilities of what this, this intimate act, could mean. I think about how having sex together could mean more to me than it does to him.

I try to stop thinking about it. I try to focus completely on him and what we're doing together.

He kisses me back and seems to notice that something is different.

"Sasuke?" he says my name as an inquiry as he breaks the kiss.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Are you alright? Are you nervous, or in pain, or is it something else?" he asks me.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. I'm just a little nervous," I tell him.

It's not a lie. I am nervous. But I don't want to tell him my new revelation. I don't want him to know how I feel about him yet. I don't want him to reject me before I even get a chance to understand what this all means to him.

"You shouldn't be. It's only me," he says and I can't help but want him to understand how wrong he is.

If it were anyone else, any other man but him, I wouldn't be so nervous. I most likely wouldn't be nervous at all. But because it's him and because he means so much to me, I'm afraid of doing something wrong. I want to please him. I don't want him to turn away from me.

"I know, I'll try not to be," I tell him.

He only smiles at me as he holds his erection in his hand. He rubs it outside of my entrance in warning or affection, I'm not sure. I take a deep breath as I feel him pressing it into me.

It feels strange to be filled in this way, but I don't mind. He puts the whole thing inside me and I can feel my walls squeezing hurts but I am able to ignore the pain for the fact that he's finally inside me.

The face he makes only arouses me more. His eyes close and he lets out a long content sigh.

"Fuck, Sasuke. You're really tight. I've never felt something so good before," he tells me and I can feel myself blush again.

A red tint has spread across his tan chest up near his neck like a field of red flowers blooming. I want to taste it, confirm its heat on my tongue.

I place a hand on the side of his neck to pull him closer.

"Hey wait up, you have to get used to me being inside you first before I move anywhere, or it'll hurt," he tells me.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just come here," I tell him and his eyes seem hazy. I have pleased him in some way.

He does as my hands tell him to and he leans more of his weight on me so that he is close enough that I can taste that red skin on his neck.

His sweat tastes salty and acidic with hints of the alcohol that has already passed through his blood stream.

"You're cute when you blush," I tell him as I move my mouth away from his neck.

The color of his face darkens as he audibly scoffs at me.

"Saying things like that when I'm inside you is dangerous, Teme. I thought that you weren't good at talking," he warns me.

"What's so dangerous about it?" I ask.

"Because if you don't behave, I won't be able to control myself and I'll just start fucking you as hard as I can. And I'm trying really hard not to hurt you," he admits to me.

"I said that I'm fine. You can fuck me," I tell him and know right away that my attempt at pleasing him with my words has worked.

I've come to understand that it isn't compliments that he needs to hear, it's a different set of words that he must need to be turned on.

His face changes and he looks much more serious than before as he places one hand above my head in order to hold himself up, the palm touching my dark hair and a thumb stroking my hairline.

Be begins to move inside of me, pressing inside me as deep as he can. He hits the end of me and a strange sparking feeling comes over me. I have never felt something quite like this, but it feels good and it makes me want more.

"Tell me again Sasuke," he whispers to me after he allows a loud moan to escape from him.

"You can fuck me," I tell him again.

"No. Tell me what you said earlier. Tell me that you want me," he says.

Now that I am able to put a label to the way I feel about him, I know that the more I allow myself to admit my feelings in small little pieces, the more I put myself at risk for devastation. The more I put myself at risk of being rejected.

But I want to please him as best as I can and give him what he wants.

"Naruto, I want you," I tell him and mean it on a much deeper level than he understands.

"Ah," he moans into the air as he moves again, his other hand holding my ass for leverage as he pushes into me.

He presses into that place that makes my head dizzy and foggy and I can't keep myself from pulling his light hair in between my fingers and holding onto his upper arm with my other hand. His bicep is strong and thick as I squeeze it in my grasp.

His thumb still strokes my skin by my hair and he lays his face to the side of mine. his hot breath invades my ear canal and it excites me to hear how crooked his respiration is.

"I want you really bad too," he whispers in my ear and I tug on his hair harder.

He picks up his pace and begins to thrust into me faster as he changes his position so that he is above me and looking down on me again.

He grits his teeth and breathes hard as his hips move.

"You're so good," he tells me as he leans down to kiss my jawline.

"You're making me feel really good," I tell him, still awkward about what I should say.

He seems pleased and I can feel him smiling against my lips.

He moves one of his hands from the position it rests in as he holds himself up above me and positions it in between our bodies.

I don't understand what he's doing until I feel his calloused fingers wrap around my cock. I moan at the contact and at the pleasure of feeling him move inside me and stroking me at the same time.

He moves his hands in the same way he had his mouth earlier and the heat inside me rises quickly again as the pleasure builds up pressure.

Then he stops all of his movements and I hear him sigh.

"Damn it. I can't touch you well like this," he says loudly.

"You don't have to touch me," I try to tell him to show him that he's making me feel good with what he's already been doing to me.

"How else am I supposed to make you cum? It's no fun if you're not feeling good too," he says.

My heart feels heavy again at his concern for me. it makes me hopeful. It makes me feel as though this might not be a one time thing. It makes me feel like it could mean more to him than I expect.

He doesn't allow me time to give him a response as he leans back on his knees and allows himself to slide out of me. my body feels empty and cold without him inside me.

I am afraid again that I've done something wrong. That he's decided that being with another boy is too much work. That he's bored of me already.

"Turn around," he tells me like a stern command and I obey him.

I turn around on the couch so that my behind is in the air and my chest faces the cushions. I hold myself up with my arms and wait.

"Put your body down, like this," he tells me as he pushes my chest down into the cushions beneath me and moves my hips so that they're up even further in the air.

I can hear him pushing his pants the rest of the way down his legs and completely off of him. the fabric rustles behind me but I remain still.

"Let's try it this way," he says as he presses himself back inside me.

It feels like he is able to enter me deeper than before and as he hits the end of me, he is able to press into that spot within me each time.

The heat from his cock radiates into me and I can feel it twitch against my walls. It sends static stars that tingle throughout me and makes me moan louder than I've ever done before.

"You feel better like this, don't you?" he asks me as he thrusts his hips into me.

"Yes," I admit and can't help but to move my hips backward to meet his.

I feel him lean down and leave a kiss on my sweaty back as he hits the end of me with the head of his cock.

I moan at the feel of his mouth on me and he grazes me with his teeth. His hand comes around my waist to touch me. He takes my member in his hand and strokes me to the rhythm of his thrusts.

It feels good and I can feel the pleasure build up as high as it can go.

"Naruto, I'm right there," I tell him through my hard breaths.

"Cum for me, Sas'," he says as he presses into me as hard as he can and he moves his hand over my member fast and steady.

The command sends shivers throughout me and I can no longer hold myself back. I release in his hand, moving my hips so that his hand rubs over me the way that I need it to. I moan loud into the room and I feel his teeth digging into my shoulder and hear him grunt and moan in return as if answer my call. The sound vibrates against my skin and his tongue laps up the sweat that has formed there.

It all feels so good that I can no longer move. I can only stay in the position he's put me in and breath in deeply until my respiration is slow enough to get the needed oxygen into my lungs. My cock continues to twitch in the aftermath and I remain hard. I want more, I don't want it to end.

"Don't stop," I tell him and feel his hips begin to move again. he still holds my erection in his hand but keeps it still as if he knows that I am over sensitized. he rubs the white wetness of my release over my cock with his fingers as lubrication before he begins to stroke me again.

"Sasuke, you're so sexy," he tells me again as he moves.

"You're so big," I admit when I've caught my breath completely.

"You're fucking great. Sex never felt this good before," he says in small yell as he moans at my tightness.

I give into the urge to say what I'm thinking.

"You can have it anytime that you want. You can always have me," I offer.

"Fuck. Don't offer yourself so freely like that or I won't ever get anything done. I'll just be over here fucking you constantly," he says and I feel pleased and hopeful.

I hope that he means it as he says it. I hope that he will do this with me more than just his once and that perhaps this means as much to him as it does to me.

He thrusts into me and strokes me until I'm there again. It feels so good that I can only perk my behind harder into him and press myself into the cushions of the couch as I scream out in my pleasure. I moan loud enough to know that anyone walking by outside would be able to hear me.

'Fuck. You're so fucking tight, I gotta cum. I'm gonna cum for you. You gonna take it all, teme? Are you gonna let me fill you up, Sasuke?" he says as he leans over and breaths in my ear.

I can feel his cock hardening even further and I know that he's very close. I can't help but lick my lips and thrust my hips backwards when I am able to move them again.

"Damn it, you feel too good. Answer me," he commands as he presses both of his hands on my waist to hold my hips still. I can feel the sticky residue of my cum on some of his fingers and it makes me feel satisfied that I've marked him in some way.

"I'll take it. I'll take it all. Give it to me," I say, trying to sound the way I think he wants me to.

My answer has the effect that the both of us wanted them to have and he pounds into me fast and hard as he moans and licks the sweat from my spine.

Finally he presses into me as hard as he can and pulls my hips towards him so that the meat of my behind brushes against the curly hair above his member and so his cock can slide into me as deep as it can go.

He gives a guttural moan and I can't help but feel aroused at the sound. I want to make him make that sound again. I want to be the only one to make that sound come out of his mouth.

His release washes over him as his cock twitches sporatically inside me and he kisses the back of my neck.

He breaths hard as he tries to steady himself and regain his balance. he stays inside me for several minutes as he allows his body to return to a state of rest.

He continues to kiss my neck and lick away the salty liquid. He holds my waist with one of his hands and uses the other to push a palm up and down my wet back.

"You're so beautiful," he tells me again and I can't help but feel lighteheaded and content.

I have pleased him. I have made him feel good and I have shown him that I don't mind doing something like this with him. I have let him see a side of me that no one has ever gotten a glimmer of before and he knows it. I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and he understands how hard that is for me.

"You're so good," I tell him and know that he needs the reassurance.

"I feel like that's the first time I've cum in years, but it's only been days. that's how good it felt. you feel amazing," he tells me through his breaths.

"You feel really good too, Naruto," I say and feel him sigh against my wet skin before he lifts his head and uses both hands to hold me still as he pulls himself out of me.

My body is stiff from keeping the same position and my entrance is sore from the hard violation, but I manage to ignore the pain and turn myself around so that I can face him.

He sits on his knees on the couch cushions and I place my legs on either side of his knees, my behind touching the tips of his toes as I sit and look at him.

I watch him slowly pull the condom off of his softened member and slide his fingers from the base of it to the tip, pushing the white liquid to the space at the end of it to check for holes or leaks.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Checking to make sure that it didn't break," he says, still breathing slightly hard.

"Why? I'm not going to get pregnant," I say, meaning to make a joke.

"No, but I wanted to check anyway," he says seriously and I can tell that he didn't understand what I meant by asking.

I decide to place my palm over one of his arms, just to keep the physical contact between us from ending.

He looks up from the rubber thing and his eyes catch mine as he smiles. It's tilted and I can tell that he's still intoxicated.

"You're so fucking good. I hope you meant it about fucking you when ever I wanted, because that was amazing," he says and leans towards me so that our mouths connect.

I kiss him hard and moan at the way he wraps his hands around my back.

"I meant it. Come fuck me all you want," I tell him when the kiss ends.

"Good, cuz I want you again," he says as he reaches to the side of the couch for another beer while dropping the used condom in the plastic bag along with the empty bottles.

He drinks it quickly and I can see it go down as his neck moves with each gulp. He offers me the last of it and I accept it again as I finish it off.

He stands, wobbly on his feet.

"You fucked me so good my legs feel like jelly, come here," he says as he spreads his arms out on either side of me, opening them and gesturing for me to stand and go to him.

My body aches, but I don't care. I don't want any of this to end.

I slowly rise from my place and wrap my arms around his back as I feel his land on my skin.

He holds me in this awkward hug for several seconds as if he's thinking really hard about something. He rests his chin on the top of my head and the bone hurts.

"Take me to bed," he says quietly and I feel my heart pounding like an instrument again.

I pull away from him and move so that I can take his hand in mine. I walk him out of the living room and into the bedroom.

Once inside he turns me towards him and places his fingertips on the side of my chin and gives me look that makes me hotter inside.

I'm hyper aware. I can feel my blood pump and swell throughout my body. I can see his breath moving his chest. I can smell our sweet and the remnants of what we've already done. And I can feel the bumps raise on my skin, tingling where he touches me.

He moves his face close to mine again and kisses me deep. Deeper than before. Harder and yet more tender than before. I melt into the kiss and sigh.

"I can't believe you're letting me touch you like this, Sasuke," he says and my hardness aches at the sound of my name.

I close my eyes and tell myself that I need to show him that I want him to keep touching me and that I want to touch him back. I've already told him so, but it's obvious that he expects more. Expects me to talk to him in passionate ways. Expects me to give him something back.

I hesitate for a moment and then remember that I owe him for everything. For the way that he has forgiven me. For the way he spends time with me. For the way that he puts up with me.

I open my eyes and decide to follow through. I kiss him deep again and touch my fingers to his chest. I apply pressure to gesture that I want him to let me guide him. He backs up a few steps until he stands at the edge of the bed. I apply more pressure and push him down to the bed.

He sits on the edge and shows me a surprised look. It entices me. Makes me want to take control the way that I always end up doing.

I straddle him, my legs on either side of his, my ass in his lap. I place my arms around his neck, my hands touch his back. The contact of skin on skin makes me shiver.

He looks even more surprised as I look into those blue eyes and see the light shining inside him.

"I wish I could have you like this all of the time," he tells me and I can feel the length of his hardness pressing into the skin of my behind.

"You can, you know. You can have me like this when you want," I tell him and truly mean it. I feel a sense of dread for a moment, remembering that my love for him is supposed to be a secret. But even deeper within me I want him to know. And I want him to love me back.

I know that this probably means nothing to him, but I can't help but hope that it does mean something. That it means that I can have him to myself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I wake up with the sun shining in through the blinds of the windows to my bedroom. It hot as it lays across my eyelids.

My body feels damp from sweat and the remnants of last night. The air smells like sex and salt.

I remember what happened the night before. I can see little pieces of memory flashing in my eyes. I see his blue eyes as they look down on me. that expanse of smooth tan skin. those calloused hands running over my bare body. that hot mouth licking, sucking, biting me. those plump lips pressed into mine.

And then I remember my realization. I remember that I am fully in love with my best friend.

It makes my heart feel warm inside of me, but it also scares me. it's the same fear that I've felt for a long time. it's the same fear that kept me from telling him the truth about how I felt last night.

I sigh as I decide to lift my head and assess the damage.

I can hear him breathing and lightly snoring next to me, his mouth pressed into my hard shoulder bone and his large hand resting over my stomach. I can feel his heat and it makes me want what we did together to happen again and again until there is nothing left that we can give one another.

I lift a hand from under the sheets to run my fingers through his wet yellow hair. it is still full of sticky sweat and it sticks together as it stands up in all directions.

He moves and stirs from the contact and stretches beside me before he opens his eyes.

When he opens them, it is obvious that he doesn't know where he is. he looks around and realizes that he's in my bed when he catches sight of me.

"Sasuke?" he says my name like a question.

"Good morning. does your head hurt too much?" I ask, knowing that there is no way that he could have gotten away without a headache from all that he drank last night.

He only looks at me as if he's trying to remember how we got this way. How we ended up naked together in my bed. How he ended up at my house at all.

"Uh, it hurts a little, but not too bad," he tells me.

"that's good. You should get more sleep," I tell him and turn my body so that I am on my side and looking at him.

He moves away slightly to make room for me and raises a hand to his forehead, as if trying to ease away the pain that I know must be thumping behind his skull.

"Uh, I guess I should, but I'll take a nap when I get home," he says and the knot I had before has grown and tightened in my stomach again.

I feel this sense of danger in my chest and I know something bad is going to happen by the way he says it. by the way he's looking at me like it wasn't me he was supposed to be waking up next to.

"How much did I drink last night?" he asks me.

"I don't know. you had only a little bit here, but you were drunk before you got here," I tell him.

"Oh, ok. Do you mind if I take a shower?" he asks me and I feel disappointed.

Somehow I pictured the morning after to be different. it's not as if I had planned any of this out in my head or thought about what it would be like after we woke up together, but I still expected it to be different.

I expected him to wake up and hold on to me, clinging to me and being as sweet to me as his personality left me to think he would. I expected him to say good morning to me. I expected him to panic and say that he didn't remember what happened last night.

I didn't expect him to wake up and sort of pass by the topic. I didn't think that he'd ignore the fact that we'd just spent the night together and fucked. I didn't expect him to get out of bed so soon.

Before I can answer him, he is already out of the bed and standing by the edge on the opposite side that I am laying on. He brings a hand up to the back of his head in his nervous habit and only looks at me as I lie still, half covered by the sheets from my waist up.

the fabric curves against my pelvic bone and shows him a small bit of the curve of my behind. I see his sky colored eyes trace my outline from under the thin cover. His cheeks turn a light pink like they do when he is embarrassed.

"Um, uh, Sas'?" he asks, jumbled and seemingly disoriented.

"Yeah?" I answer.

"Where are, where are my clothes?" he asks and I am disappointed again.

My hopes had gone up, thinking that he was going to tell me something meaningful or comment on the way he couldn't keep his eyes off of me.

"They're in the living room where you took them off," I tell him.

Then without saying anything else to me, he goes to get them and heads off to the bathroom.

I can hear the water in the shower running and can imagine the steam rising all around him, the liquid washing over him and cleaning the evidence of what we did together off of him.

My stomach aches and my heart constricts within my chest. I have a sick uneasy feeling and I can't bring myself to get out of bed.

Instead I pull my knees to my chest, trying to even out my breathing and stop thinking about the possibility that my vulnerability is about to destroy me.

I think about the reasons that he could have reacted the way that he did.

He could have been embarrassed and didn't know to say or do with me. he could have forgotten what actually happened between us and didn't want to say anything wrong. He could have been too tired or hung over to make any effort.

I try to rationalize it all and take a deep breath to calm myself.

He takes a long time in the bathroom and smells clean when he reenters the room. I remain on my side and wait for him to address me.

He moves close to the bed and sits down on the side that I'm facing. He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in the way that it usually does as the water remaining it is tries to weigh it down.

"Sasuke, are you alright?" he asks me.

"Yeah, why?" I say.

"Well, cuz' you're kind of quiet and lying like that. Is your stomach hurting, or is it your, uh, your behind?" he asks me as if he's nervous.

I hadn't thought about the lingering pain before. The pain in my anxious stomach hurt me more.

"No, I'm fine. I'm not hurting," I tell him.

"Then why are you laying like that?" he asks me.

I don't know how to tell him that it's because I'm afraid that he is disgusted that he slept with me. That I am afraid that our friendship will become too awkward and that he won't come around anymore to visit me. that I am overly aware of the fact that he most likely does not love me back and that last night only happened for the physical contact.

It's not like I've had a real romantic relationship before. It's not as if I understand what is supposed to happen during one, but still, I can't deny that that's not what I want with him.

I love him. That means that I want to be with him. That means that I want us to belong to one another, as girlish and childish as that seems, that's what I want. I want him. And I want him to want me.

"I'm just laying like this," I tell him to answer him without admitting that I'm feeling fearful.

"Oh, ok. Look Teme, I was thinking about it, and I think that last night probably shouldn't have happened. I was upset and drunk and you were being so nice to me, I couldn't help myself. I just kind of reacted without thinking and I'm sorry," he tells me and I realize that those were the very words I was afraid of.

My chest hurts. he thinks that last night was a mistake. That going to bed with me was wrong. That touching me was disgusting. My heart echoes in my head I can't think of what to say.

"Why are you sorry?" I ask him, saying anything just to speak. Just to make him stay here with me longer.

"Because I took advantage of you and because I shouldn't have expected something like that from you," he tells me and it confuses me.

"It wasn't taking advantage of me. do you not remember me telling you how much I wanted it? Do you not remember how I told you that we could do that together from now on?" I ask him and he stares at me with his mouth parted as if he's not sure of how to answer me.

"Yeah, but still, I don't think last night should have happened. I was emotional and unprepared for how sweet you were. I couldn't stop myself once I started," he says.

"Why do you think it shouldn't have happened? You and I both wanted it, so what's the problem?" I ask.

"Sasuke, just stop ok? It was a mistake, alright? I won't ask you to do that again," he says with a much louder voice than before and the sound startles me within the quiet bedroom.

His words hurt and I feel like I'm going to vomit.

"Sasuke?" he says my name again and I look up at him to make our eyes meet.

When I give him my attention, I notice a look of regret pass over his face.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks.

I'm not. I'm not angry with him, although I probably should be. I should be angry that he used me last night to take out his frustrations. To de-stress. To vent. To get over that whore of a woman he was seeing.

I should be angry, but I'm not. something inside my head told me that this would happen. It warned me that last night might have meant more to me than him. it whispered small knowing statements that him sleeping with me was only a physical thing.

I knew what it would be and so I have no right to be furious.

But it still hurts. it still aches throughout my heart and my head at the realization that I am in love with someone that does not love me back.

He is my best friend and if I tell him how I really feel, I could risk our bond. I could risk everything that we have between us, old and new. And that's not what I want. I'd rather have him by my side every day as my best friend, than chase him away with messy love confessions and unrealistic expectations.

"No, I'm not mad," I tell him, although I know he is trained more than well enough to know that I am lying to him.

But he doesn't mention my deception. He doesn't say anything to give away that he knows I am a liar.

"Ok, good. I'm really glad. I should probably go soon though," he tells me as he lifts his body back off of the bed and waits for me to rise as well.

I get out of bed, still naked and bare and I can feel his eyes on me again. but this time I can't tell if he's admiring my form or disgusted by it.

I quickly grab some pants from my drawers and put them on before I walk him to the front door.

"I'll see you later, Sas'," he says and for some reason I feel like he's lying to me just as I had to him only moments ago.

He walks away from my wooden porch without looking back at me even once.

My chest aches and I can't help but hold a hand up to it as if I'm trying to clutch my heart in my hand to stop its beating.

He doesn't come back for days. His absence always bothers me and leaves me feeling empty and alone, but its worse this time. It's heavier this time.

Something in me told me that it would be like this and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know how to make things go back to normal.

At first I waited around my house for him, hoping he'd show up again with a takeout meal in his hand as he usually does, but the loneliness and disappointment was too much.

As I slip my bare feet into my shoes by the front door, I feel the nerves in my stomach dance and twist around, reminding me of why this is a bad idea.

I

am far more intelligent than most shinobi, but I am also not the greatest. In fact, I'm technically no longer a shinobi anymore, so I'm out of practice. I am smart, but even I know that I've had better ideas than this one in the past. Even deciding to destroy the village that's home to the man I love was a better choice than this one.

I plan to meet him at his house instead of waiting to hear him knock on my front door. I decide to make it so that he can no longer ignore me.

Kakashi visited me a yesterday and sparked the idea in my brain.

I had told my former teacher what had happened between us, because there was no one else I could tell. There was no one else that wouldn't laugh in my face at the fact that I'd been used for my body, and that I'd been used by another man. There was no other person that wouldn't make fun of me for allowing him to dominate me.

The silver haired man had only looked at me for a few quiet moments and then said, "It's about time."

He told me that it was bound to happen eventually and that it was good for the both of us to understand that we could be that way with one another.

I didn't understand what he meant and I became angry at first because I thought he was suggesting that it was good that we knew now that we could be fuck buddies, or whatever Suigetsu would have called it a long time ago.

But of course I was wrong, as I've come to realize I am often these days, and he told me that he meant that it was good that we discovered that we could be a part of one another in that way. That because we had sex, it opened up the possibilities for love or a relationship with one another.

I didn't tell Kakashi that I've decided that I love my former teammate. I haven't told anyone. I haven't been brave enough.

I only scoffed at the older man's words and admitted that his absence and avoidance angered me. I told him of what the girl did to him. I told him what I thought of her.

He had laughed at me and told me that I sounded jealous of her.

I couldn't deny it, and so I didn't respond to the statement.

Then my teacher's face changed and he looked solemn for a moment before he told me that I needed to use my head and skill more efficiently. That I needed to make it so that he couldn't ignore or avoid me. That I needed to make him see that it wasn't me that was the one making an effort to stay away from one another.

The idea had turned and invaded my thoughts for the last few days until I decided to give into it.

I open the front door and allow the early afternoon sun to cross over my skin. The air has turned colder over the last few months and the season is beginning to change as well. The leaves have become darker and brighter all at the same time, making the colors rich and captivating.

I am nervous about what I will find once I get to his front door. I'm afraid that he will turn me away. I am afraid that our bond has been damaged beyond repair. I am frightened that he will not want to see me ever again.

I drown out the sounds of the village as I follow the path that I remember to get to his apartment. I can't hear the sound of the civilians as the talk and socialize in the streets. I can't hear the vendors at the market as I pass by. I can't hear the children as they run in front of me, their inflatable weapons and kunai in hand, chasing one another and pretending to be shinobi. I can't hear the Anbu as they follow me close behind me to my destination. I can only hear the thoughts in my head.

I can't focus on what to say when I arrive. I can't imagine or play out the possible outcomes of the interaction like I should be able to. like I am able to map out every movement during a battle. Like I am able to predict what my opponent will do next.

I can only think about what his face might look like as he answers his door.

I walk up the wooden steps of his building until I come to the third floor. they creak as if they are screaming beneath my feet and I can only think that perhaps they are trying to warn me.

I make it to his door and allow myself a long second before I bring a hand up to knock on the door. it makes a loud sound against the wood as I do so and I take a deep breath to prepare for the possibilities.

It takes a little under a minute for him to answer it. when the door opens he stares at me as if I'm out of place. as if I'm not supposed to be here. as if he doesn't know how I got here.

He is shirtless and there is an accumulation of sweat around his neck. A large bruise adorns his skin and I know that I didn't give it to him. I know that if I had, it would have faded away and been forgotten by now. I know that it is fairly new and it was made by teeth.

He is surprised to see me and it shows in his wide endless eyes.

"Sasuke? What are you doing here?" he asks me.

I hadn't prepared for what I was going to say should that question come up and so I say the first thing that I my brain offers me.

"Well, you hadn't been by. I thought that maybe I could visit you instead for a change," I tell him and hope that my excuse is valid enough to believe.

"Uh, yeah, I'm sorry I haven't seen you in a while. I've been really busy lately," he tells me as he glances over his shoulder and quickly back to me.

"It's alright. I thought that you'd want to get something to eat with me. we could go for ramen," I say and know by the look he's giving me that that's not going to happen.

"Actually, right now isn't really a good time. we could go out tomorrow if you want though," he says and I know by the sounds from inside his apartment that he's not alone.

I feel disappointed again, but there's nothing that I can do. I can't demand to know the reasons why he's stayed away from me. I can't ask him who he's been with, even though I'm smart enough to know that it's that woman. I can't beg him to spend more time with me. I can't expect him to fuck me or love me or any of that.

I can't because he doesn't belong to me and because he intended our night together to be a one time occurrence.

"That's fine," I tell him, but it eats away at me from the inside.

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow," he tells me, but I know that he doesn't mean it.

I know that he won't come tomorrow or the next day or the one after that. I know that it will be a while before I see him again.

Even though I'm trying not to look hurt or pathetic, I can't help it. I turn around to leave without saying goodbye.

From knowing him from years and from being used to the way he always chased after me regardless of how many times I told him to leave me alone, he doesn't stop me. he doesn't follow me down the stairs or across the street. He doesn't even watch me leave. I could hear his door close seconds after I had turned my back.

I decide that I won't allow this to happen again. I won't allow myself to become this vulnerable. I won't put myself in a situation that could potentially be my undoing. I will not let myself ever get close enough to anyone to give them a chance to hurt me.

I had made the same promise years ago when I was young. I wouldn't allow myself to be close with anyone. I would not allow bonds of any type get in my way from my ultimate goal. I would not let myself become distracted and weak.

But being here in this village with him and having him readily available when I wanted or needed him to be, allowed me to feel safe enough to open myself up. it allowed me to think that he's always be reliable. That he'd always be there for me. that he'd always want to be near me.

I've been wrong all this time and I will not allow it to happen again with anyone else, even if it means this cold loneliness lasts the rest of my life.

I remind myself that for years, I took solace in solitude and craved the silence. That I didn't need anyone to interrupt me and my thoughts.

As I walk through the entrance to my family home again, my resolve to stay strong and independent feels too heavy and it begins to weigh me down.

I fall to my knees just inside the door and hold my head in my hands.

I just don't understand how he could want me back in this place so badly, visit me everyday for the past couple of years even when they held me in that cold and dark cell, tell me that he enjoys my company and that he thinks I treat him well, takes me to bed with him, and could easily dismiss me as he has today.

I don't understand how such a gentle man could be so cruel without even realizing it. it hurts and I don't know how to make the knot in my stomach lighten. I don't know how to stop thinking about him.

My head hasn't hurt this badly since the night I found out that my brother was not whom I had assumed he was all those years. the night I lost my true purpose and realized that I had killed someone that loved me enough to pretend the way he did.

But even with all the pain, I'd rather think of him than Itachi. I push the subject of my brother away and try to hold back the water that stings the corners of my eyes.

I don't cry often and when I do, it's for something uncontrollably frustrating and discouraging that I can do nothing about. But this is different. I had known what to expect and I had had an idea of what that night had meant to him, so there is no reason for me to allow the tears to fall and stain my skin. there is no reason to act like a child.

But even knowing that, I can't help myself. I can't help the water from coming and I can't help the thick sobs from escaping my throat.

It hurts. it all hurts. my past. My captivity in a place I had decided to destroy. The avoidance of the only person I've ever loved in this way. Knowing that I had been a spur of the moment device used to relieve stress. That he doesn't want me the way I had hoped he would. That he is disgusted with himself and with me for what we did together. that I am nothing to him compared to that woman. The loneliness of this house. the memories that haunt me in my sleep and throughout my days. the boredom of being domesticated. It all hurts more than I can handle at the moment, although I've faced worse and much more dangerous things.

I give in to the exhaustion and lay on the floor. my cheek presses against the cool wooden floor and my body lies unmoving like a child's broken and discarded toy. I allow my eyes to close and try to force my body from twitching as my mouth continues to make the sounds of my despair. I try to calm my respiration patterns back to normal let myself drift into the darkness behind my eyelids.

I wake up to the sound of foot steps beside me. they echo across the hollow floor and make the house seem more lively.

I should be upset that there is an intruder. I should be embarrassed to be found this way. But I'm not. I no longer care what anyone thinks of me. my pride has left me and I remain where I am.

I open my eyes to see a set of knees bent, their owner crouched to look at me.

"Sasuke?" his voice sounds throughout the room and passes through my ears.

I was wrong. He didn't lie to me. he did show up like he said that he would.

I roll around to my back and look up at him. my head feels dizzy and it's hard to focus on his face.

"Teme, what's wrong with you? you're still wearing what you were last night, did you pass out?" he asks me and it feels as if he actually cares.

I scoff aloud so that he can hear me. I wonder how someone that turned me away the night before with complete disregard for me could pretend to act concerned about me now.

And then I stop myself in my thoughts. he did turn me away and he did use my body to relieve his own frustrations. He did tell me that he and I sleeping together was a mistake and he did ignore and avoid me.

But even so, I know that he cares for me. he cares about everyone. Every single person has importance to him and I remind myself of how good of a man he is in the first place.

It doesn't mean that I'm anything special though, and it still hurts. but I shouldn't chastise him for the things he's done, because I know from somewhere deep inside me that he hasn't done any of it on purpose. I know that he would never intentionally hurt me.

I decide to nod to his question, if only to gain some sort of attention from it.

"Are you sick? Did you fall?" he asks me again, rapidly and without pause.

"I'm ok now," I tell him and it's not an entire lie. I do feel better than I did the night before, although I'm still just as hurt.

"Let me help you," he says as he wraps a hand around one of my upper arms and places the other on my back as he helps me to sit up.

"Can you stand up and walk?" he asks.

"I feel dizzy," I tell him because I do.

"This will probably be weird because I know that you don't like to feel helpless, but don't fight me. I'm going to pick you up and take you to your bed. We have to get you off of this damp floor or you'll get sick," he says as he positions me so that he can lift me up.

He carries me in his arms in front of him as if I were a woman. I put my arms around his neck, pretending like I am afraid that he will drop me, but I know that he won't. I know that is strong and kind and will try as hard as possible not to let me fall.

He places me in my bed and I can feel the warmth starting to accumulate in the sheets as my body heat starts to be absorbed by the fabric.

He sits beside me on the mattress just as he did the last time that he was here, only this time I am able to look up at him as I lay on my back.

His hand comes to rest on my head and his thumb rubs on my hairline again like it did the night that he was inside me.

I watch how he focuses his blue eyes on me and it makes me feel important, although it shouldn't because I now know that that look is most likely not only for me.

"You really scared me, Sas'. I was worried when you didn't answer the door and I asked the guards and they said that you were home. so I had to pick the lock and when I got here and saw you on the floor, my head went crazy trying to figure out what was wrong and my heart beat faster than it has in a long time. I couldn't see you breathing. I was so worried that I'd lost you," he tells me and it all hurts more.

It hurts to hear him say such things when I know that he doesn't mean them the way it feels like he does.

"I'm alright. I'm just dizzy," I tell him.

He is silent and only continues to caress me with his thumb.

"You were worried that you'd lost me?" I ask him, although I know I shouldn't.

I know that he will say something that I want to hear. He will tell me that he doesn't want to lose me. he will tell me that I'm important to him and it will make me fall even deeper into this hole of disappointment and pain, because I know that he doesn't feel the same way that I do.

He doesn't understand that I love him and if I tell him now, it won't make a difference. He doesn't love me back. he doesn't know what he means to me. if I tell him now, I will only look more pathetic than I already do. if I tell him now, he will have to feel guilty telling me that he doesn't want me, and after all of this, I still want him to be happy. Making him suffer through such things is not adding to his level of happiness.

"Yeah, you're my best friend. I thought you were sick or dead. I thought getting to be by your side after everything we've been through to get to that point would be taken from me already. I thought you'd been taken away from me already," he tells me and I can feel the sadness welling up in my eyes again.

It stings my nose and makes my throat swell up. the salty water gathers and I can't stop it or hold it back before it falls. It leaves wet marks down my face and I have to reach a hand up to wipe it away with my fingers.

"Huh? What's wrong? Why are you crying? Does it hurt somewhere?" he asks me in that frantic pace again as he starts moving both of his hands over my body, lightly poking me and checking me for injuries.

It makes me feel good that he's so concerned, but it also makes me feel like he's unintentionally tricking me into thinking that I am special to him in ways that no one else can be.

"My stomach just hurts," I tell him.

He surprises me as he lifts up my shirt far enough so that my stomach is exposed. My muscles tense as he rubs his palm gently over the tender skin of my belly. I know that he is checking for any bumps or abnormalities, but my imagination wants me to feel like he is caressing me.

He takes his time and continues to be careful with me. when he's decided that there's nothing wrong with the structure of my stomach, he holds his hand there as he looks at my face.

"Nothing feels strange under your skin. did you eat something bad?" he asks me.

"I haven't eaten anything in a while, so it's probably that," I tell him.

"When did you eat last?" he asks me and I can't remember the answer.

I've been so preoccupied with thoughts of him and what might happen to our bond, that I've forgotten to eat, or when I ate last, I can't be sure. Since the last time he was here, time has become so jumbled and mixed up that I can't make sense of what day is which. I have the general understanding, but I've lost the exact count.

"I don't remember," I tell him without stopping myself.

I want him to think of me and know that his words and his actions and his absence have affected me, but I don't want him to worry. I don't want him to think of me as a burden or a child that needs special care or it will act up or get sick.

But I wasn't able to stop myself before admitting that I don't remember my last meal, and I know that it will affect him negatively.

"You don't remember? Why not? How long has this been going on?" he asks me.

"I don't know. A few days, I guess," I say.

"What's going on with you?" he asks me then as he looks at me and tries to capture my eyes with his.

It works and I have gotten lost in the blueness of them right away.

"I don't know. I don't, I don't think it's that bad though. I'll get better soon, it's just because I haven't been leaving the house lately," I tell him, trying to make him worry less.

"Why haven't you gone out?" he asks.

The answer is simple and I debate whether or not to tell him. I decide that telling him the truth might be the best move.

"I haven't run out of canned food yet, and I only leave the house when I'm with you really," I tell him.

He stays quiet for a while before I can see his mouth open to speak.

"You don't go out without me? Why not?" he wants to know.

"Because I feel safest with you. I'm used to being worried that someone will come out of nowhere and attack, and even though I know that won't happen here, I can't help it. If I'm with you, I feel safe, like no one can hurt me if you're there with me to fight back. Walking around with you also helps me feel not so out of place. When I'm in public on my own, I notice how everyone stares at me much more easily and it makes me feel like I don't belong, so I try to avoid going out alone when I can," I tell him honestly.

"I didn't know that you felt that way," he tells me as he looks away from my face and down at his hand that he seems to have just now noticed was still on my stomach. He pulls it away slowly and stares at it as he rests it in his lap.

"It's ok. I have to get over it, especially now that you won't be coming here so often," I say, accidentally making it sound like I want him to feel guilty.

The egotistical and childish part of me does want him to. It wants him to feel guilty about leaving me in this condition. About causing it. But the other part of me, the one that's grown and finally learned to accept the bond that we have, doesn't want him to feel that way because it doesn't want him to feel burdened by me anymore.

"Uh, I know that you're not feeling good right now, but I actually came to talk to you about that. About me coming over, I mean. I kind of got back together with Anya and I told her what happened between us. She's always been jealous of you and now she thinks that she has a real reason to be. So in exchange for her to stop hanging around the guy she was with, she doesn't want me to come see you so often," he tells me.

My heart hurts more than I expected it to after how it felt when he turned me away from his door last night.

I don't know what to say and that heated hatefulness that I had learned to suppress a few months after I reentered Konoha, rises in me again and shows through the surface of me.

"You mean, never. You shouldn't lie. You don't mean 'as often', you mean never. You won't come over here anymore because you want to obey a whore that you allow to cheat on you. Since you're so willing to give up our friendship, our bond, for a woman like that, maybe it's a good thing that you won't be coming around anymore," I tell him as I sit up from my position and hold myself up with my arms outstretched slightly behind me.

His expression changes and I can tell that I've surprised him. It's been a long time since I've been cruel and unkind to him. it's been a while and I can see that my attitude is unexpected.

"Sasuke, that's not what I meant. I'm not throwing our bond away. I'm-"he tries to respond but now that I've fallen back on my old behavior, I can't stop myself.

"Get out. I don't want to see you anymore. and if you do come around, I won't answer the door," I tell him, my anger fully apparent as I give him the look that I used to as I told him that I wanted nothing to do with him when he chased me through the trees.

"But Sasuke, I-" he tries again.

But I won't allow it. I decide that perhaps it is for the best. Perhaps it would be better for both of us if he stays away from me. It will help his relationship with her and it will help me forget about him in small little pieces, just like I had to before in order to train with my former master underground in the darkness.

"I said get out!" I yell louder as I allow myself to act like a child that hasn't gotten its way and decide to use both of my hands to try to push him out of the bed.

His body is solid and only moves a few inches. He instinctively reaches out and grabs both of my wrists to prevent me from doing it again.

"Sasuke, what's wrong with you?" he yells back at me as I try to free my arms from his hold.

He squeezes tighter and glares at me, expecting an answer.

"You're what's wrong with me. You make me like this. The way you show up every single day and make me expect you and then you disappear for ages all of a sudden. The way you come to me and depend on me for things like patching up your cuts and providing you emotional support in the middle of the night. The way you fuck me and then want nothing to do with me. The way you trade me for a whore that can't be faithful to you. The way you've announced proudly over the years what a strong unbreakable and unwavering bond you have with me that no one else could ever replace, and the way you're so quick to dismiss all of that for a prettier fuck than me. Look at what you've done to me! Look how you've forced me to become vulnerable and then threw it all in my face! Look what a great and wonderful best friend you are!" I yell at him without thinking my words through.

My body and my tongue have always been quicker than my mind and I know that I can't take any of it back. I didn't mean to be so honest and I didn't mean to make him sound so mean, but the words just came out and now he knows how stupid and pathetic I am.

He's silent and I know that he doesn't know what to say. The expression on his face shows me that

I've hurt him and I feel guilty and regretful, but I know apologizing right now will only make me look worse than I already do. it will only make me seem unstable. It will only make me seem like I need his constant attention always or I will act this way. It makes me seem like being my friend is a lot more work than it should be.

He doesn't say anything to me as he rises from the edge of the bed where he sat and walks out of the room.

I stay quiet and hear the sound of the front door opening and closing with a click. I am alone again and

I will be alone for a very long time. It feels very much the same way like waking up to total darkness while I was beneath the earth where no sun could illuminate the air.

It feels like I am again down in those never ending tunnels of dirt and stone, trying to find my way out from underneath the surface.


End file.
